It's Not Exactly Stealing
by dhrachth
Summary: Highlander/LOTR/BtVS crossover. Sequel to ROG on Vacation. Duncan, Legolas, Methos and Joe end up in Sunnydale post season 6. Then there's this apocalypse. It's not a romance. **completed** revised
1. Chapter 1

This is the sequel to **ROG on Vacation** which is a Highlander/Lord of the Rings crossover featuring Methos. You should read that one first. This one is probably understandable on its own, but a few things might be a tad confusing. Click on my name to find 'ROG' here or at my website.

A/N: There's been some monkeying with the timelines to make this work. Move Highlander forward a few years so that Duncan's fight with Ahriman took place right around the time of Buffy's fight with Glory. This is set somewhere near the sixth and final season of Highlander: the Series, ignore End Game. And, it's set a couple months after the season six finale of Buffy, shortly before the season seven premiere--just pretend Willow's 'incident' occured sometime in late fall rather than in the spring.

This is the revised version. Most of the revisions are line edits, where I added a line or two of dialogue to already existing scenes. I did add three completely new short scenes (only about four pages total--maybe a couple thousand words), I grouped them all together in the last part, along with a collection of notes from the first version, for those who want to see them but don't fancy reading through the entire thing again.

Disclaimer: I own nothing in this story. The characters are all creations of others and the plot is nothing that hasn't been done a million times before.

****

CHAPTER 1

Legolas was stalking about the clearing as a lion in captivity might pace a new cage. On the surface, the elf seemed to take his unexpected trip to another world in stride. Upon awaking he asked only, "This is your world?" and after receiving confirmation of that fact from Methos, he said nothing further. There was no complaint or panic, no brow wrinkled in consternation and dismay, not even inquiry as to how he could return home. Legolas simply stood and started examining the forest around him. However, all was not right with the elf. There was an indefinite air of agitation surrounding him. He paced up and down the clearing, stopping every so often as if listening for something, and with each pause his agitation grew.

Meanwhile, the Immortal was busily examining the markings on the stones. Methos now knew enough of Elvish to decipher the writings, but it still wasn't as easy as reading a morning newspaper. Reading the instructions necessary for sending Legolas home again was going to take a little time.

"Good news. It's just as I thought," Methos said when he finished reading the stones. "It works just the same on this end as it did on the other. Only the times are reversed."

"That is good news indeed. I can return home come summer?" Legolas said, some of the tension leaving his pose.

"Looks like," Methos confirmed. "The six months shouldn't be too much of a burden, even if you have taken an immediate dislike to my home world."

"I wouldn't say dislike," Legolas said slightly sheepish, suddenly realizing how his agitation might be construed as offensive. "This world is just so very strange."

"Strange how? You've only seen this little patch of woods," Methos asked, puzzled by Legolas's statement.  
  
"The woods, they are unlike any I have seen before. The trees, they are... sleeping. But, it is not a normal winter's sleep. It is deep and dreamless and I doubt that they shall ever wake," Legolas said with an almost imperceptible shutter.

"Now that you mention it... they do look somehow... less alive than the greenery of Middle-earth," Methos said meditatively. Then shrugging aside such concerns in favor of the more pragmatic, he continued, "Sleeping trees aside, I'd like a hot bath and all the comforts of civilization. I suggest we start hiking or we'll be sleeping on cold ground rather than in warm beds tonight."

Legolas nodded in agreement and followed Methos as the Immortal set off on the trail which lead down the mountain. "Since I will be here for the coming months, perhaps you should tell me what to expect." 

"Well, for starters, you can't tell people you're an elf, no one would believe you. You probably want to cover your ears too. If people see them they'll think they're fake and assume you're some sort of nutcase who went in for plastic surgery."

"I don't understand. What is plastic surgery?"

"Plastic surgery is when someone has pieces of their flesh cut off, pulled tighter, added to another part of their body, or otherwise rearranged in order to change his or her appearance. Inserting foreign objects under the skin is also very popular."

"Why would anyone do such things?" Legolas asked aghast.

"For the sake of beauty. What's a few months of swelling, bruising, and stitches compared to a lifetime of good looks?" Methos asked, finding the elf's reaction highly amusing.

"But, that is insane!" Legolas protested.

"In all probability you're right, which is why you want to cover your ears. If you don't, half the people will assume you're mentally unstable and the other half will want to inspect them up close and ask for the name of your surgeon."

"I see." Legolas said, unbraiding his hair. "What else should I do to avoid attracting attention?"

Methos examined his friend, taking in the leather, the tunic, and the weapons. But, those weren't the major problem. 'I didn't really notice it in the larger than life surroundings of Middle-earth, but elves just aren't humans. He's more beautiful than handsome, but not prissy or delicate, something I've never seen a human carry off. He moves like some sort of cat, only dancers come close. Heck, he kind of glows. Women, and men, will be throwing themselves at him left and right. I'll have no peace till I pack him off home,' Methos thought with some consternation. Finally he said, "I don't think that will be possible. A change of wardrobe might help a little, but women are going to be coming out of the woodwork."

"During the time I spent in Minas Tirith, I grew somewhat accustomed to the awe filled stares. The men of Middle-earth all know of the existence of the elves, but few have met us in person. I am no stranger to such reactions," Legolas said in resignation.

"But, in Middle-earth men are aware of the division between elves and men. Elves are magical and special, above the common person's touch. Here, you're just a regular person who happens to look a lot better than average. There are going to be a lot more stares of lust than stares of awe, and plenty of women who'll do a lot more than stare."

"Surely, once they realize that I am a traveler only here for a short while and not interested in marriage, they shall look to other prospects for a husband," Legolas protested.

"Who said anything about marriage? That's another thing about this world you should be aware of. Just in the past few decades we've had a little thing called the sexual revolution. Scientists developed a safe and reliable way to prevent conception. Since then, sex outside of marriage has become common and not secret."

"There are going to be large numbers of women following me around, wanting me to lie with them?" Legolas said slowly, wondering what sort of madhouse he had fallen into.

"That's right. They're going to be throwing themselves at you in droves," Methos said gleefully. 

"Is there anything else you think I should know?" Legolas asked, dreading the further indignities that might be lying in wait for him.

"Well, we'll probably spend the next six months in the States. I'll stay Adam Pierson a little while longer; creating a new identity isn't something I want to attempt, while entertaining a guest. A basic understanding of the English language would be helpful." 

"Elves have a natural affinity for language," Legolas said, happy to change the subject to something which wasn't apt to cause him intense discomfort.

"That's good. I suppose there's no time like the present..." Methos replied then he started the English lesson, pointing out various items along the side of the trail and giving the English words for them.

The two kept walking, and as the sun began to set they spotted the lights of civilization through a break in the trees. "It looks like we won't have to do any camping after all," Methos said, relieved. Legolas and Methos had accomplished quite a bit during the long hike. His Elven affinity for language had served Legolas well. He was still far from fluent, but he had managed to learn the basics every tourist needs to get by--greetings, asking directions, that type of thing. 

* * * * * *

Joe and Duncan had been in Switzerland for the past several days and still hadn't found anything. Duncan was able to access some of Methos's files with the password he'd been given, but they contained no clues. All Duncan was able to find were some research notes on runic translations that mentioned a trip to a nearby library, and he had already followed that lead to a dead end. They also questioned all the hotel employees, car rental agents, bartenders, etceteras who had some contact with Methos during his stay in Switzerland. They made no headway in the search what so ever. The only bright side was the fact that another room came free when a couple cut short their trip--after the man broke his ankle in a skiing accident.

"I don't think we're going to find him," Duncan told Joe over dinner.

"You're giving up?" Joe asked skeptically. "When's the last time you let anything go?"

"I'm not giving up. I'm being realistic. There's nothing more we can do. We've asked all the questions and have searched every where we could think of searching. I don't think we're going to find him till he wants to be found," Duncan said with resignation.

"Too bad the old man isn't here to hear that. He'd faint from the shock. Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod actually doing the pragmatic thing rather than carrying loyalty to extremes," Joe said shaking his head in disbelief.

"I'm sure he'd be very proud," Duncan added dryly. "You don't seem too concerned about Methos's welfare anymore. Why is that?" 

"The more we look at this the more convinced I am that nothing happened to him. No one noticed any other strangers in the area other than Grey and since summertime is off-season they would have noticed. Grey's dead, so that pretty much rules out Immortal trouble. The only other way I can see him disappearing so completely is if he wanted to," Joe reasoned.

"But why? Why wouldn't he take his things with him or let me know he wasn't coming to Paris? He must have known we would worry," Duncan asked.

"Who knows how his mind works? I'm sure he had his reasons," Joe said philosophically.

"They had better be some pretty good reasons," Duncan muttered darkly, growing irritated at the oldest Immortal's apparent lack of consideration. Then he suddenly sat up straight, alertly looking around the restaurant.

"An Immortal?"

"Yes..." then spotting a man just entering the restaurant, he added, "Methos."

Joe turned in his seat to see for himself and said, "That's him alright."

* * * * * *

Legolas and Methos were walking past the restaurant on the way to the village's only inn when Methos abruptly stopped. This was the second abrupt stop since they reached the village. The first one was when Methos spotted a newspaper dated only six months after his departure rather than a year and a half. Apparently, the gates operated outside of normal time. 

"What is it?" Legolas asked.

"Another Immortal," Methos answered, a knowing grin slowly spreading across his face.

"Here to fight you?" 

"Possible, but not likely. Unless I miss my guess, we just got lucky. It looks like a friend came looking for me. Come on," Methos said, opening the door of the restaurant.

Legolas and Methos entered the restaurant just as Duncan rose from his seat to greet Methos. Methos noticed the disgruntled expression on Duncan's face and paused for a split second--deciding on what evasive actions to take in order to avoid a lecture. Then he lead Legolas over to Duncan and Joe's table.

"Mac! I've missed you!" Methos said enthusiastically then hugged the younger Immortal, giving Joe a conspiratory wink over Duncan's shoulder. Duncan's eyes widened in shock at Methos's greeting. The old man was never that demonstrative, and he'd only been gone for six months. 

"It's good to see you too," Duncan replied hesitantly, confused by Methos's peculiar greeting. Then, noticing Methos's ponytail--the older Immortal's hair having grown out in the more than a year without a barber--and regaining his equilibrium, he added, "I like the hair." After all the comments he had received on his own shorn locks the year before, and Methos's previous remarks about the impracticality of long hair, Duncan couldn't let Methos's long hair pass without comment.

"As fascinating as your new hairdo is, I'd like to know where you've been and who your friend is," Joe prompted, nodding toward Legolas who was standing slightly behind Methos, blending into the shadows and silently observing what was going on.

"Right," Methos said. "Duncan, Joe, this is Legolas Greenleaf. Legolas these are my friends Duncan MacLeod and Joe Dawson. You'll get the full story of where I've been later," he promised, looking around the room in such a way as to indicate that the story was best reserved for more private surroundings.

"It's good to meet you Legolas," Joe said warmly. "You'll have to forgive me for not standing. These bum legs of mine have been giving me trouble in this cold weather."

Legolas gave Methos an inquiring look, his limited English vocabulary not covering the situation. In Westron, Methos explained, "An old war injury of his is acting up, and he's asking you to excuse his not rising to greet you."

"Ah," Legolas replied in the same language, "tell him there is nothing to be excused."

Turning back to his increasingly curious friends, "Legolas doesn't speak English," Methos explained.

Duncan, had no idea of what to make of Legolas's strange clothing, a language unlike any he'd ever heard before, Methos's long hair, or anything else about the peculiar situation. Dying with curiosity, he invited Methos and Legolas to dine with him and Joe.

"I thought you'd never ask," Methos accepted the invitation and took a seat.

Methos waved the waiter over and ordered for Legolas and himself. After the order was taken, conversation resumed in awkward fits and starts. The fact that the topic of greatest interest to Joe and Duncan was off limits for the moment made things difficult enough. The fact that Legolas couldn't understand English made the situation even more awkward.

After their food arrived and Methos had made a rather large dent in a very rare steak, the oldest Immortal decided to get down to business. "How much damage control will I need to do to get my I.D.'s straightened out?" Methos asked Joe between bites, knowing the Watcher would be aware of how much the authorities had found out about 'Mike Adams' in the six months he'd been missing.

Duncan and Joe--surprised at Methos bringing up such a subject in front of Legolas, a non-Immortal--exchanged a glance. Joe paused a moment, then figuring Methos knew what he was doing, shrugged and said, "Not even the... my organization connected 'Mike Adams' to you."

"That's good. I'll only have to create a passport for Legolas, since mine's still good. Shouldn't take long, once I lay my hands on an Internet capable computer. I suppose the local authorities took my laptop?"

"They did," Duncan said. "But, some 'friends' managed to liberate it and sent it on to Joe."

"Never let it be said that the Watcher's Council doesn't have its uses. Legolas will have a plausible passport and the four of us will be on a private jet back to Seacouver by the end of the week," Methos said.

"Private jet? Seacouver?" Duncan asked, greatly confused.

"I assume you two are only here looking for me. Here I am, so now we can go," Methos explained as if speaking to a two year old.

"We thought you'd decided to leave Adam Pierson behind and stay away from Seacouver for awhile," Joe interjected, trying to head off the bickering which was about to begin between his two best friends.

"I was. I still am... going to leave Seacouver. But, since Legolas is going to be my guest for the next few months, I thought I'd put off building a new identity till after he leaves," Methos said, polishing off the last of the steak and trying to get the waiter's attention so he could order dessert.

"But what about the private jet? That certainly isn't something 'Adam Pierson' can afford," Duncan asked.

"Do you want to fly commercial mere days before Christmas?" Methos returned.

"Well, no, of course not," Duncan answered suspiciously, knowing there had to be a catch.

"Great, then there's not a problem. Wealthy antique dealer, Duncan MacLeod, can easily afford a private jet and might as well give his friends a lift while he's at it," Methos said, giving Duncan his most charming smile.

"I'm sure your vast bank accounts under multiple aliases could just as easily cover the cost," Duncan pointed out in return. He didn't mind spending money, but Methos's constant and almost gleeful freeloading was slightly irksome. It was the principle of the thing.

"But, 'Adam Pierson' doesn't have two nickels to rub together. A well laid false trail takes weeks of planning which I haven't done," Methos protested. Then putting on a martyred expression and sighing extravagantly he added, "I suppose I could cover the cost and hope the Watchers just assume it wasn't me picking up the tab. And, if they did start to wonder, it's not as if they had any evidence of who I really am."

"Fine," Duncan relented, "I wouldn't want to blow your cover." Duncan sat silently for a moment, knowing that Methos had just won another round of their on going game of one-upmanship. Then a thought occurred to him and Duncan couldn't quite restrain a wicked grin. "You sub-let your apartment, didn't you?" Duncan asked, surreptitiously catching Joe's eye to get Joe to play along.

"Yeah, I did." Methos said. "I suppose I'll have to find a new place, since Legolas is staying with me. Your couch will just have to get by without me."

"Yes, it's too bad I don't have enough room for you and Legolas," Duncan said with false sincerity.

"What about the Victorian?" Joe asked, while Duncan made a show of trying to get Joe to keep quiet.

"Victorian?" Methos said curiously.

Joe looked back and forth between Methos and Duncan then said, "Sorry Mac, it just sort of slipped. Duncan bought a big Victorian just before flying to Paris."

"If you don't want guests, you just have to say so," Methos said in a mock injured tone. "Legolas and I can stay in a hotel until I can find some little place Adam Pierson can afford. It won't be too terrible. I've heard that Motel 6's aren't all that bad."

"That won't be necessary," Duncan said grudgingly. "There's plenty of room in my new house."

"Only if you're sure you want us to come," Methos said to tease Duncan that extra little bit.

"I'm positive. I insist," Duncan said, sounding irritated, but really quite pleased with the situation. Methos won on the private jet round, but Duncan was just about to win the next one.

* * * * * *

Meanwhile in Sunnydale at the Summer's residence...

Dawn and Buffy were inspecting a pan of burnt Christmas cookies. "I'm sorry Dawn. I tried to follow Mom's recipe but..." Buffy trailed off sadly.

"That's okay. They're not so bad." Dawn said cheerfully, picking one up and trying to take a bite. After unsuccessfully knawing on the charred cookie for a moment, "Okay, so their not edible... but they still look Christmassy. Actually, they're kind of cool," she continued, banging the rock hard cookie on the edge of the counter. "We could drill little holes in them and use them as ornaments. Maybe paint them or add some glitter or something to make them pretty?" 

"Nice to know they'll be good for something," Buffy agreed with a chuckle, somewhat cheered by her sister's enthusiasm. "We'll get to work on that... after I patrol," she said glancing out the window, noting that the sun had set while she'd baked the tree ornaments.

"Can I come?" Dawn asked.

"Well, I don't know..."

"It's Christmas break; you can't use homework or a school night as an excuse."

"Yes, but..."

"You said yourself you wanted to show me the world not hide me from it."

"I know; I just don't want you in any danger."

"This is the Hellmouth! When am I not in danger? Besides, with Willow and Xander in England with Giles you could use some help."

"Dawn, if I let you patrol with me I want you to stay back from the fight and to be very careful. Jumping into the action to help me is a good way for you to get yourself hurt, or worse," Buffy warned.

"Don't worry. I'll be careful. I don't want to get myself hurt either. But, you have to admit, I kicked some major... uhmm... behind, helping you with those cave guys."

"I suppose that is true, you weren't half bad in that cave" Buffy reluctantly conceded. "Go get your coat. If we run into trouble, stay back and let me handle it."

"Okay, I'm getting my coat. I'll be back in just a minute. This is so cool," Dawn squealed as she skipped out of the kitchen to fetch her coat.

* * * * * *

A couple hours later, Buffy and a much less excited Dawn headed home. It was a slow night. Buffy staked two vampires, both just risen and easy to dust, and all else was quiet.

"I'm cold," Dawn complained.

"That's what happens when you're outside too long this time of year. That's why they call it winter," Buffy said brightly, getting her revenge for all the times Dawn complained about Buffy going on patrol without her.

"Ha. Ha. Very funny. Is patrol usually this boring?" Dawn asked.

"Nine times out of ten. The rest of the time the world's coming to an end."

"Right, boring equals good. Got it," Dawn said vehemently, really not liking her own brushes with apocalypse. Then after a pause, she added, "Why didn't you tell me patrol was like this all the times I've bugged you to go along, instead of just going on about the danger?"

"Would you have believed me?" Buffy asked.

"No, probably not."

Just as they reached their own street, they heard a woman screaming, "NO! You can't have him!"

"It's coming from that house over there," Buffy said running toward a house three doors down from their own, the door of which had been completely torn off its hinges.

"It's Mrs. Maxwell," Dawn said wheezing a little and barely able to keep up.

Buffy reached the house, jumped over the porch railing, and entered the house through the open doorway. Inside she found Mrs. Maxwell struggling to keep a demon away from her small son. The demon was small, not much bigger than Buffy. It had three eyes and was covered in greenish, yellowish tentacles which glistened with some sort of oily substance. On the bright side, it wasn't very fast. Mrs. Maxwell was even able to cut off the tentacles reaching for her son with a kitchen knife. Unfortunately, as soon as the tentacles fell to the ground they'd disappear and reappear, reattached to the demon as if they were never cut off.

Dawn stumbled in the house, soon after Buffy. As soon as she saw the monster she blurted out, "Eeew, gross!"

"That's what I was about to say," Buffy said then launched herself at the demon. Buffy kicked and punched the monster too rapidly for it to even contemplate dodging. With each blow it was pushed step by step toward the door, but it never seemed to be hurt. It was only Buffy's momentum driving the creature back. The demon wasn't trying to avoid pain. This went on for another couple moments then the demon happened to look out of a window. It shrieked and disappeared.

"What was that?" Dawn asked.

"I don't know."

"Whatever it was, you killed it. Didn't you?" Dawn said nervously.

"I don't think so," Buffy said.

"Do you think it'll come back?" Dawn asked, knowing the answer but not wanting to see the gross thing again.

"Don't they always?" Buffy replied with a shrug. Just then, their conversation was interrupted by a loud thud. Mrs. Maxwell, overcome by the excitement, had fainted. "Dawn, go see if she's okay. I'll call 911."

"911? What about the demon?" Dawn asked as she knelt beside Mrs. Maxwell.

"It's not here now, and she needs medical help. I doubt yet another gas leak slash animal and/or PCP attack will bother them too much," Buffy said rolling her eyes as she dialed 911.

* * * * * *

The next morning Buffy was getting ready for her shift at the DoubleMeat Palace and Dawn was eating cereal in her PJs in front of the TV. Buffy put the last glass from breakfast in the sink and walked into the front room. "I've got a double shift so I'm not going to be back till late," Buffy told Dawn. "Beep me if you need anything."

"You mean like there's some demon action you need to know about," Dawn said.

"No, I meant like I need to pick up some more milk on the way home," Buffy said dryly.

"Oh."

"Speaking of demons, you could look at the stuff scanned into Willow's laptop and see what you can find on the icky green guy we saw last night."

"Research..." Dawn whined. Buffy'd let Dawn help with that a few weeks ago. Dawn already knew how unthrilling musty books could be. "This is Christmas vacation and that's almost like school work. Besides there's an all day Christmas cartoon marathon on today."

"Research during the commercials," Buffy suggested. "We really need to find out about swamp thing. It was after little Joshua and I have no idea how to kill it. I don't think the usual hack and slash is going to work."

"All right. I'll do the research. I wouldn't want swamp thing to hurt any little kids just so I could watch cartoons," Dawn agreed.

Dawn went through every record on the computer but couldn't find any mention of a demon matching this one's description. By the time Buffy got home, Dawn was getting a little anxious about the situation. Reading through the records had fired Dawn's already overactive imagination. All the possible terrible things the monster might be up to kept running through Dawn's mind.

When Buffy came in the kitchen she found Dawn sitting at the counter, staring at the last record in the files, lost in thought. "So, did you find the demon?" Buffy asked.

Dawn jumped in surprise, not having noticed Buffy's entrance. "No, it's not in here. Maybe we should call Giles," Dawn suggested.

Buffy thought about it a minute then said, "I really don't want to bother him with this if I don't have to. With Willow staying with him, even with Xander and that coven helping, he must have his hands full."

"And Willow'll feel guilty about not being here to help us," Dawn added, nodding in agreement. "But, if it's not in this stuff and we can't call Giles how do we find out?"

"Anya might know, if only we knew where she was," Buffy said rubbing the kinks out of her neck.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you. Anya's back!" Dawn said.

"She's back? I passed by the apartment on my way home, all the lights were out."

"She moved, too many reminders or something. I don't know where she's living, but she's reopening the Magic Box. I saw her there with some construction guys last week. She said I could come back to work a couple weeks after Christmas when the work's suppose to be done."

"We'll go by there tomorrow. I've got the morning off. Hopefully she'll be there," Buffy said stifling a yawn.

"She seemed really impatient to get the store opened and making money again. She'll probably be hard at work, bright and early," Dawn said.

* * * * * *

Middle-earth, next to the stone circle, mere moments after Methos and Legolas's disappearance...

"The solution to the puzzle appears to have worked," Arwen observed faintly looking around the clearing which now held two fewer people.

"Worked too well, if you ask me," Gimli complained. "Why did those lights take Legolas too? Adam was the only one looking to go home."

"I'd guess it is because he is also an immortal, though of a different variety," Aragorn speculated.

Gimli grunted noncommittally at this observation and said, "What I want to know is how to get him back."

"Is there anything we can do?" Arwen asked.

Aragorn thought over what he'd been told of the workings of the 'Gates' then answered, "I believe all we can do is wait."

"Wait?!" Gimli protested, worried about his friend.

"Legolas is likely with Adam in his world as Adam was with us in ours, he will be fine for the time being. In all likelihood, he must simply wait for the time to be right to make his return. Adam did say that these stones only worked once a year, the ones on the other side probably work in much the same way," Aragorn explained his theory.

"And if they don't?" Gimli asked.

"I don't know what we'll do," Aragorn admitted. "But, if the stones work as Adam believes they do, Legolas should return six months from now. We should wait for that time to pass with no sign of him before we begin to worry in earnest."

Gimli looked over the clearing in silence for a moment then asked, "I wonder what strange tales we will hear from him come summer?"

"I wonder that as well," Arwen agreed.

****

CHAPTER 2

Buffy and Dawn went to see Anya at the Magic Box the next day. They ducked under the scaffolding in front of the door and entered the shop. Inside they found Anya telling two men in overalls exactly where to place a new display case. "A little farther forward, little further back, now a little left, that's right," she instructed, "Now you can go get the other one. And, hurry up! Time is money and money is important." The men exited, relieved to get away from their slave driver, perfectionist boss for a few minutes. 

"Hey, Anya. The place is looking pretty good, almost ready for customers, though I'm not sure about the pink walls. You should have dropped by the house to let us know you were back. We could have helped get this place back into shape," Buffy said in greeting.

"You would have helped, even though I'm a justice demon again? I thought you guys were avoiding me?" Anya asked, surprised to see Buffy and even more surprised at the offer of help.

"Of course we would have helped!" Dawn interjected. "You're our friend and we help friends, even the demonie ones... as long as they're the good demonie ones."

"What she said," Buffy seconded.

"You mean that?" Anya said and at Dawn and Buffy's nods of confirmation ran up and hugged each of them saying, "I thought you would avoid me, after you found out I was a demon again. You were always more Xander's friends than mine."

"What can I say, Anya, you've grown on us," Buffy said with a friendly smile. "And you really came through with the Willow situation. Demon or not that counts for a lot."

"You don't mind that I'm a demon," Anya said hopefully.

"I don't. It's actually kind of cool," Dawn replied.

"Well, not minding might be going a little far. I mean, I don't care if you give some guy crabs for cheating on his girlfriend--jerk probably deserves it--but death and mayhem because some couple has relationship issues, that I have a problem with," Buffy explained.

"I don't think you need to worry about it too much," Anya reassured Buffy. "I wasn't really thinking when I went back to being a demon. I used to not care what the consequences of a wish were, but now I think of all the terrible things that could go wrong. People are always wishing so irresponsibly and once a wish is made, it's made. I can only try to undo it before anything too permanent happens, I can't change the wish to something less dangerous. I've been too worried about what might happen to grant any wishes since I've become a demon again."

"That's good to know," Buffy said relieved. "I wouldn't want there to be another one of those alternate universes like the one vamp Willow came from popping up."

"If something like that happens, it won't be because of me. I'm not going to use the power of the wish until I figure out a way of controlling it better. Like you said, making a guy lose all his hair or turining him into a pig is one thing, but what if some woman wishes for the stock market to crash so her boyfriend will lose all his money? That would be terrible."

"Absolutely horrific," Buffy agreed dryly, thinking endangering Anya's pocketbook was the swiftest way to get the demon worried. "Now that we have that settled. I was wondering if you could help us with something?"

"Do you want a loan?" Anya asked suspiciously, knowing of Buffy's financial woes and not easily switching from one train of thought to the next.

"No, nothing like that. Demon trouble, we need some info," Buffy explained.

"Sure. What do you need to know?" Anya agreed.

"Short, slimy, puke green demon, three eyes, lots of tentacles... Ring any bells?" Buffy asked.

"Was he trying to take a little kid?"

"Yeah, little Joshua from down the street. Cute kid, but he's a biter," Dawn said.

"And you couldn't hurt him? The demon I mean, not the little kid. You wouldn't want to hurt the kid because that would be wrong."

"Pieces were cut off, but they disappeared and then--poof--back, good as new. So what is it?" Buffy asked.

"Sounds like a Kratha demon. They're not really dangerous most of the time. They're slow, weak, and mostly keep to themselves," Anya started to explain.

"Then why was it after Joshua?" Dawn interrupted.

"I was getting to that. Kratha demons are nearly immortal, but they get their immortality by stealing the lives of others. They usually go after the ones with the most life left in them..."

"Kids," Buffy finished for Anya. "So how do I kill it?"

"The only way I've ever heard of a Kratha being killed is with a sword of Kali."

"Great. So all I need is a one of those swords. Where do I get one? I'm guessing I can't just pick one up at the local Wal-mart," said Buffy, feeling like some progress was finally being made.

"They were all in Indian temples to Kali, before the British came. Now, I don't know where they are. I can probably find one though. The Magic Box does business all over the world with all the biggest supernatural artifact dealers," Anya offered.

"What am I supposed to do in the mean time?" Buffy demanded. "I can't just let it go around taking little kids while I wait for that sword to arrive."

"Well, that ceremony has to be done at a certain time on certain days of the month. If it tried last night the next time is probably a couple weeks away. If I can find a sword, we'll have it by then," Anya replied defensively.

"Thanks Anya," Buffy said half apologetically, just to let Anya know that it was the situation she found frustrating, nothing Anya did.

"Don't worry, we have time to find one of those swords. I'm sure Anya will come through." Dawn, the eternal optimist, said encouragingly.

* * * * * * 

In Seacouver...

Duncan, Legolas, and Methos were on the roof of Duncan's new home nailing down shingles, some working more diligently than others. Nailing down the last shingle in the stack next to him, Methos sat back on his heels, yawned, stretched, and said, "Well, I've finished my pile. It's time for a break."

"Here, you can start on these," Duncan said handing Methos another handful of shingles.

"We have been working for less than an hour. Surely we can do more than that to repay MacLeod for his kind hospitality," Legolas added. He was not exaggerating when he'd mentioned an elvish knack for language. Legolas had managed to learned passable English in the week and a half he'd been in Methos's world.

"Traitor," Methos said, going back to work.

"We're just about out of shingles," Duncan observed. Then as Methos was just about to offer to fetch some, Duncan continued, "Legolas, would you get them?" 

"Of course, I'll be back in a minute." Legolas said. He then walked across the crossbeam of the roof to the other end of the building where several unopened packages of shingles were stacked, glancing back only once to check Methos's reaction to once again being thwarted in his attempts to get out of manual labor. Legolas was not one to hold a grudge, but since the Immortal found Legolas's reaction to the flight to the States so very amusing, Legolas felt Methos's current predicament to be only fair. 

The elf had found flying through the air in a metal machine to be highly unnatural and more than a little nerve wracking. He'd spent the entire flight clutching the arms of his seat and trying not to think about what was going on. Methos found something about a nervous elf extremely funny and didn't bother to restrain his laughter.

"How does he do that?" Duncan asked observing the elf walk along the roof. "Amanda's balance isn't that good. She could make it across well enough, but she'd have to step carefully. He isn't even watching where he's going." 

"I don't know. It's an elf thing. Extremely good balance is just part of the elf package," Methos replied with a shrug.

"Elf package? Elves are all just natural high-wire artists?" Duncan asked, feeling like he was missing something. Then a second later he added, "Shouldn't he be a little more careful?"

"Legolas is in no danger of falling. Elves may look like humans with pointy ears, but they're not. Different rules apply," Methos elaborated.

"Different rules as in no law of gravity?" Duncan asked skeptically.

"I wouldn't go quite that far. Look just accept that he knows what he's doing and move on. He's not going to fall," Methos said trying to close the subject.

"I hope you're right. I'm not looking forward to an afternoon at the hospital trying to explain elvish physiology to the doctors," Duncan said, turning back to his work. 

Legolas returned with the shingles a few moments later and the three worked for the rest of the morning, stopping just before noon for lunch. 

"Fish stew?" Methos asked unhappily, sniffing the air as he entered the kitchen.

"Yeah, I put it on this morning. It should be done by now," Duncan answered. 

"It smells delicious," Legolas added.

"If you like fish stew," Methos grumbled.

"I take it you don't," said Legolas

"I've had worse, but it's definitely not one of my favorites." 

"That's because you've never had my fish stew," Duncan said, never one to be overly modest. "I got the recipe from the head chef aboard the QE2. Perfectly seasoned and no fishy after taste, I promise."

"We'll see, won't we," Methos said skeptically.

The three men sat down to lunch and spent several minutes eating in silence. The thick, creamy stew was just what they needed after a long cold morning working on the roof.

"You know, this stew isn't half bad," Methos reluctantly conceded.

"It's excellent," Legolas agreed eating another spoonful.

Just then, the phone rang and Duncan went to answer it, wondering if it was his electrician calling back. Duncan was willing to take on the bulk of the necessary home improvements himself, but some things were better left to the experts.

"Hello?" Duncan answered the phone.

"Duncan MacLeod?" the woman on the phone asked.

"Speaking."

"Mr. MacLeod, I'm Anya Jenkins calling on behalf of the Magic Box. You recently purchased a Sword of Kali from the Webster auction. I need it."

"You need it?"

"Yes. It is very important. Normally, I'd pretend not to need it so I could bargain the price down, but I don't have time. How much money do you want?"

"Uh.." Duncan paused for a moment nonplused by Anya's strange approach. "I'm afraid it's not for sale. I bought it for my private collection."

"Well, can I borrow it? Just for a couple weeks."

"Borrow it, you mean for some sort of exhibit?"

"An exhibit? Yeah, we could call it an exhibit. So can I borrow your sword for an exhibit?"

"Is this some sort of prank? If it's not I'd appreciate you getting to the point," Duncan said wondering what the woman was up to, she sounded far from normal.

"It's not a prank! I need the sword for a couple weeks to kill a Kratha demon, then you can have it back good as new. Please Mr. MacLeod, it's a matter of life and death," Anya pleaded.

"You want the sword to kill a demon?" Duncan asked slowly.

"Exactly," Anya said, relieved that Duncan finally seemed to be catching on.

"Ms. Jenkins, if you're actually serious about fighting demons, I suggest you seek professional help," Duncan said.

"But, I'm calling on behalf of a professional," Anya protested. "This isn't some fly by night covert ops thing like the Initiative. We just want to kill an evil demon, not harvest bits and pieces to make a super monster or anything. You won't need to worry about misuse of your property. I want to borrow your sword for the Slayer, you can't ask for a more professional demon slayer than that."

"I meant professional psychiatric help," Duncan replied.

"Oh... Does this mean you're not giving me the sword?"

"Goodbye, Ms. Jenkins," Duncan hung up the phone and returned to the kitchen shaking his head in bemusement.

"So when's the electrician coming?" Methos asked hoping it was sometime soon. They could hardly be expected to continue work on the house while he was there. They'd just be getting in the electrician's way.

"It wasn't him," Duncan said refilling his bowl at the stove.

"Then who was it?" Methos asked curiously.

"Some woman named Anya Jenkins. She wanted to borrow a sword I bought a couple months ago--so she could kill a demon with it."

"You're kidding," Methos said incredulously.

"No, that is what she said," Duncan replied.

"And what did you tell her?"

"I told her to get professional help."

"Pardon me, but I am confused. Did you not have an encounter with a demon yourself? Why do you discount this woman's story? Perhaps she does indeed need assistance," Legolas suggested, confused by Duncan and Methos's easy dismissal of Anya's story. 

"I don't doubt she needs assistance, but not in fighting demons at least not ones that exist outside her own mind. I defeated the demon Ahriman not much more than a year ago, but that was a special case. He only comes once every thousand years and he wasn't something that could be destroyed with a blade. Demons are, thankfully, rare and not allowed to physically manifest. If there really is a demon plaguing Ms. Jenkins, a bronze sword won't do her any good," Duncan explained quietly, his own encounter with a demon still very close to the surface.

"I see," Legolas said, nodding in understanding. 

"Well, if everyone is through eating, we should get back to work," Duncan said with forced cheer, purposefully changing the subject from mad women and demons.

Methos groaned and said, "I'm not going back on that roof. It's freezing up there and I've only just thawed out."

"Of course you're not. We'll leave the rest of the roof for another day. Right now we're going to start pulling up the rotten sections of floorboard on the third floor," Duncan said enthusiastically.

"Fantastic. I can hardly wait," Methos said sarcastically.

Legolas exchanged a humor filled glance with Duncan and said, "I'm ready when you are." The elf prince was enjoying the simple physical labor. It made a nice change from the pressures of leadership and the tedium of ruling. It was also nice to be physically active when it didn't mean life or death and the fate of a world wasn't hanging in the balance. He didn't regret voluteering to help with the renovations for a moment.

* * * * * *

Buffy, Dawn, and Anya were gathered around one of the new display cases at the Magic Box, looking rather dispirited. "So you can't get the sword?" Buffy said.

"I tracked all of them down. The only one left, intact, and not in a museum isn't for sale," said Anya.

"What if you told the owner how much we needed it?" Dawn suggested.

"Tell him what?" Buffy asked. "That we needed it to kill a demon and save a child's life? He'd think we were nuts."

"It might work," Dawn persisted.

"No, it won't. I tried that, and Buffy's right. He thought I was crazy," Anya said before the sisters could launch into a full fledged fight.

"Oh," Dawn said.

"Thanks for trying," Buffy added. "Now what do we do? I can't let swamp thing go around killing little kids."

The three fell silent, each thinking over the problem. "Well, there is one thing we could do," Anya said reluctantly.

"What?" Buffy asked.

"Since I'm a demon again, and spacial relationships don't really mean anything to demons, and I do know where the sword is..." Anya trailed off.

"You could do that shimmery thing you do and steal it!" Dawn finished for the demon, excited by the prospect.

"We're not stealing anything," Buffy declared, giving Dawn a sharp look.

"But, if we don't then that demon's going to kill a little kid. I know stealing's wrong, but letting a little kid die would be worse," Dawn said.

"Dawn's right. As much as I hate to violate property laws, the basis of the entire capitalist system which keeps the world from dissolving into property less chaos, it is better for us to steal this one time than for a small person to die."

"See, I'm right. Anya agrees. So are we going to steal it?" Dawn prodded.

"Well, since there aren't any other choices..." Buffy said starting to cave.

"And, we'll put it right back. That way it isn't even stealing, just borrowing. Borrowing isn't wrong and it doesn't undermine capitalism," Dawn continued.

"Alright, I'm in. Since we're going to put it right back, I guess it's not exactly stealing. Anya, when can you do it?" Buffy asked.

"Someone's coming to do the lettering on the new window in a couple hours. I could go fetch the sword after he's done and bring it over to your house later tonight." 

"Great. You bring me the sword tonight. I'll hunt down the demon tomorrow and we can have the sword back to it's owner the next day," Buffy said.

"I'll see you tonight then," Anya agreed.

"Now that that's settled I have to go to work," Buffy said. "Dawn, are you going home or staying here to help with the inventory?"

"I think I'll stick around a little longer."

"Don't stay too long. I want you home before dark."

"Yes, Buffy. I'll be home before sunset," Dawn agreed, rolling her eyes.

* * * * * *

Duncan had just stepped out of the shower and was still towel drying his hair when he heard a noise just above him, on the second floor. Methos and Legolas both had rooms on the first floor and had no reason to be up there. Duncan quickly got dressed and went to investigate.

He silently crept up the stairs and to the door of the room the noises were coming from. Cracking the door a little bit he could hear a stream of curse words and see an attractive blond woman hopping up and down on one foot. "Stupid box, now where did he put it?" he could hear her quietly muttering to herself after she recovered from stubbing her toe. She looked around the room for a moment and then went straight to a box that contained part of Duncan's sword collection. She took out several swords, looking at each then putting them aside. Then she took out the sword of Kali, but instead of putting it with the rest of the discards she took it over to the window in order to examine it by the faint moonlight streaming in.

At this point Duncan decided to make his entrance. Sword in hand, he stepped into the room and said, "I don't know who you are or what you think you're doing but I suggest you put down that sword."

The woman jumped in surprise, then said, "You shouldn't sneak up on people like that. If I were still mortal you could have given me a heart attack."

"You'll have to forgive me. I don't usually credit thieves with weak hearts," Duncan said sarcastically.

"I'm not a thief. I'm just borrowing it. I'll bring it back as soon as I can," the woman promised.

"You're not going to be bringing it back, because you're not taking it anywhere," Duncan said moving a step closer to the woman in order to end this farce.

"Actually, I am taking it. But, don't worry, like I said, I'll bring it back. And, I really am sorry about this. I wouldn't do it if I had any other choice. Oh, and you probably want to hold off on filing any insurance claims. They really hate false alarms." Then the strange woman sort of rippled and disappeared.

Duncan stood in his storage room for a minute gaping in shock at the place the woman had just been standing. Then he shook himself and said, "It must be some sort of trick." He went over to the window and started inspecting every inch of the window frame, the walls, ceiling and floor. When he got to pulling up the edge of the carpet, searching for anything out of the ordinary, Methos and Legolas entered the room, curious to know what was going on.

"Mac, what are you doing?" Methos asked Duncan, who was still examining the floor.

"Huh?" Duncan said distractedly.

"I asked what you were doing? We heard noises, tapping and what sounded like voices, and came to investigate," Methos tried again.

"There was a woman here a minute ago, come to steal a 10th century, bronze, ceremonial sword. I tried to stop her and she just disappeared, taking the sword with her."

"People don't just disappear."

"I know that. That's what all the tapping was about. I was trying to figure out how she did it."

"And?"

"And, I have no idea. There's nothing here."

"Are you sure? Maybe you missed something."

"I didn't miss anything, but check for yourself if you don't believe me," Duncan said, growing irritated at Methos's questions. The oldest immortal sometimes acted as if no one could do anything right without his supervision.

"The sword that was stolen, was it the sword that woman asked about earlier today?" Legolas asked.

"It was," Duncan said. "And now that you mention it, there was something vaguely familiar about the woman who was just here. I think I recognized the voice."

"Do you remember what she said her name was?" Methos asked still inspecting the window.

"Anya Jenkins, representing the Magic Box," Duncan replied.

"Well then at least we have some idea of who she is, even if we don't know exactly how she did it," Methos said.

"So you don't have any ideas about how she did it either," Duncan said.

"Oh, I have an idea. I think she was a witch. Cassandra could do something like this, make someone think that she'd disappeared into thin air. The name of the store, or whatever it is, she represents would seem to confirm it."

"If it is magic, it is not of a kind I am familiar with. Magic leaves a trail behind, or at least it does in my world, there is no sign of magic here," Legolas said.

"Maybe things work differently here," Methos suggested.

"Maybe," Legolas agreed.

"However she did it, I want to know where Ms. Jenkins went and what she's doing with my sword," Duncan said.

"I'll try the Internet. Maybe the Magic Box has a website," Methos volunteered, more than a little curious about the strange woman himself.

****

CHAPTER 3

Methos sat at Duncan's kitchen table searching the net on his laptop for information about The Magic Box. Duncan was anxiously pacing back and forth in the dinning room, occasionally peering through the doorway of the kitchen to check on Methos's progress. Mention of magic and demons, strange women disappearing into thin air, and the theft of his property had Duncan on edge. Legolas was perched on the counter behind Methos watching the computer screen.

"Found anything yet?" Duncan asked on his latest pass by the kitchen door.

"I've found plenty, and as soon as I'm finished looking I'll be happy to tell you all about it," Methos said, not even looking up from the screen.

"This machine of yours is fascinating," Legolas observed, trying to keep Duncan occupied while Methos finished his search.

"I suppose they don't have computers where you're from," Duncan said going over to join Legolas on the counter. He would have taken one of the empty chairs at the table but Methos had already banned him from the table for impatiently drumming his fingers on the tabletop. Besides, from the counter he might get a look at what Methos was doing.

"No, there are no such things. We would have little use for them," Legolas answered.

"How do you figure that? I've no great love of them myself and know first hand that the world got along perfectly well without computers, but they do come in handy from time to time."

"Our merchants and...writers? would without doubt enjoy these machines simply for the record keeping. Pushing little letter buttons would be much easier that writing on parchment. But this... Internet. That, the peoples of Middle-earth would not use."

"Really? Why is that?" Duncan asked.

"It is too... faceless. There is no way to know who one is speaking with or what the source of information is. Here, it seems that there are so many people that even face to face a person may... hide from their own identity. This Internet does not ask for more trust than is usual, here. In my land, if a man hides himself he can not be trusted. There was more than one man tempted into darkness through the lies of those he thought he knew. A man who will not put his name to his own words is even more... suspicious," Legolas struggled to explain. He'd learned a lot of English, but he was still shaky on the vocabulary for abstract concepts.

"I can understand your not liking the facelessness of it. I prefer doing business in person myself, but the convenience outweighs the problems with it. And, yes the anonymity makes deceit more likely, but isn't assuming that it is all lies kind of paranoid?"

"Paranoid?" Legolas asked the meaning of the word. 

"Fearful without reason."

"No, I would not call it paranoid," Legolas said. "My people would not believe every word told to them in anonymity to be a lie, but they would be ever mindful of the possibility. When there is even a small chance of being led to pain and death, it is reasonable to take care."

"Pain and death?" Duncan asked, "Isn't that going a little far?"

"Not at all. For thousands of years a shadow had lain over our lands. Dark forces layed over the land searching for a way to bring the Dark Lord to power. The greedy and not careful were easily taken advantage of and...seduced into serving the will of Sauron. All know of the treachery of Saruman the wise and how his lust for power turned him to darkness. But, there were many other, lesser... players who fell to the lies of Sauron. A cloth merchant of Gondor set to spying for Sauron for example. And then there are the unfortunates who Sauron made slaves; they were broken and twisted into foul beasts, neither man nor elf, and completely given over to evil."

"Sauron, he's the one you'd won the war with, just before Methos arrived?" 

"In a way. We fought Sauron's forces and won, but the true battle was not a contest of armies on a field. The true victory happened elsewhere and is another long tale."

"Sauron, the Dark Lord, he was the greatest force of evil in your world and he was around for millennia, but now he's gone. Right?"

"Yes."

Duncan gave a low whistle and said, "That must have really been something, ridding yourself of a millennia old threat. I can't imagine what that must have been like. I've had a good many victories in four centuries, but nothing on that scale."

"The celebration went on for quite sometime," Legolas said with a wide grin.

"I can see where a certain level of mistrust would make sense, under the circumstances. I'm surprised you trusted Methos. He's doesn't exactly inspire confidence; I'd be more likely to describe him as shifty," Duncan said, thinking back over what Legolas had said and not being able to resist any opportunity to tease Methos. The elder Immortal was no doubt catching every word of the conversation, despite his seeming absorption in the Internet search.

"We didn't trust him, not at first. We only truly began to trust Adam after he saved the king's life."

"He saved the king's life?" Duncan asked surprised. "That doesn't sound like the Methos I know. He's always telling me not to get involved." 'And, he usually makes an effort to appear uninvolved even if he is knee deep in the situation,' Duncan finished the statement mentally. 'Looking involved wouldn't go with his image.'

"Thankfully, on that occasion he decided to 'get involved.' Our party was attacked by bandits and Methos sacrificed himself to distract a bandit who was about to kill the king."

"Methos and sacrifice, now those are two words rarely heard together. I wonder what got in to him? He usually takes such pride in being a sneaky little weasel only out for number one," Duncan said somewhat facetiously.

"I think perhaps he deceives himself in that...perception of himself. He helped my friends and myself greatly while in Middle-earth, often at his own expense. He did not have to reveal his nature to us in the way he did and would not have been faulted for the king's death."

"That's what I keep telling him, that he's a better person than he claims to be. Of course he refuses to believe it, no matter how much evidence there is," Duncan said, giving the subject of their conversation a significant glance.

"As much as I hate to interrupt this, oh so enlightening, dissection of my character," Methos said in a voice dripping with sarcasm, "I thought you two might be interested to know what I've found."

"What did you get?" Duncan asked.

"Well, the Magic Box itself was very easy to find. It has it's own website. It's a store specializing in magical supplies and rare mystical artifacts and it appears to have a very good reputation. It's located in Sunnydale, California, a small town not too far from L.A., but it is mostly a mail order business and ships orders all over the world. 

"Anya Jenkins is the current owner and proprietor. Here's where the search got a little more interesting. There are no records on her dating back farther than four years ago and the earliest of those look manufactured, to the discerning eye. She graduated high school only two years ago and is already in possession of millions nearly all of which can be traced to investments less than two years old. I'd almost think she was an Immortal, except she does indeed have medical records. She broke an arm not too long ago. And the Watchers have no records of her either, I checked just in case," Methos explained.

"Medical records? Since when have they been posting those online?" Duncan asked.

"So I was a little creative in my search? You do want to know as much as possible about what's going on," Methos said defensively.

"Now that we know there is something unusual about this woman, what are we planning to do?" Legolas asked.

"Go to Sunnydale and see what else we can find," Duncan answered.

"I'm way ahead of you," Methos said, "There's a noon flight from Seattle to Sunnydale tomorrow. An early drive to Seattle and we can be in Sunnydale this time tomorrow."

"We?" Duncan asked.

"Of course Legolas and I are coming along. We wouldn't think of letting you face this possibly evil, magically disappearing, reappearing woman all by yourself. Would we Legolas?" Methos answered with slightly over done sincerity.

"I would be happy to join you on your journey. I am more than a little curious as to how this woman disappeared so completely with your sword," Legolas agreed.

"Then it's settled. We'll go to Sunnydale tomorrow," Duncan said. "I'd better call Joe and let him know where we'll be. If we don't drop by on Christmas he'll worry."

"I'll book the flight," Methos said turning back to his computer.

Duncan went to the other room and called Joe at home. The phone rang several times and then a grumpy sounding Joe answered, "Hello."

"Sorry to call so late. Did I wake you up?" Duncan said apologetically.

"Yeah," Joe said stifling a yawn. "I closed early tonight and was catching up on my beauty rest. What's up?"

"There've been some strange goings on tonight," Duncan began.

"Stranger than elves and alternate universes?"

"Maybe. I walked in on a woman stealing one of my swords..."

"That doesn't sound very strange. How many times have you walked in on Amanda stealing one thing or another?"

"I haven't gotten to the strange part yet. When I tried to stop her from leaving, she disappeared into thin air--sword and all."

"That is strange. What are you going to do about it?"

"Methos did some research on the Internet and we're fairly sure the woman was one Anya Jenkins from Sunnydale, California. We're flying out tomorrow."

"Thanks for giving me a heads up. There've been enough strange disappearances lately," Joe paused a moment then continued, "Mind if I come along? Vanishing women might be something the Watchers would be interested in."

"I'd be happy for you to come, but you don't have to. I'll tell you all about it when we come back. Christmas is only three days away, and isn't Amy coming to see you?" Duncan said, a little surprised at Joe's offer.

"Amy has a new boyfriend and is spending Christmas with his family," Joe said, clearly not liking the idea of a new boyfriend. "I was going to have dinner with some Watchers who couldn't get leave, but I think they'll be fine without me."

"Then I'll tell Methos to book another seat and I'll come by to pick you up tomorrow morning about eight, eight-thirty. We're flying from Seattle on a noon flight," Duncan said. "So you don't like the new boyfriend?"

"I can't say; I haven't met him. Amy seems happy though."

"But?"

"But they've only been going out for a few weeks and they're already talking marriage. It's too sudden."

"Love usually is sudden," Duncan said philosophically.

"You think I'm being overprotective and worrying over nothing."

"It's a father's prerogative to worry. I'll let you go back to sleep and I'll see you tomorrow," Duncan said.

"Goodbye Mac," Joe said then hung up the phone.

"Methos, book an extra seat on that flight," Duncan said re-entering the kitchen, "Joe's coming."

* * * * * *

The next day in Sunnydale...

Buffy, dressed in some ratty sweats and her hair pulled back in a ponytail, was standing in her living room inspecting the sword Anya had acquired for her the previous evening. "Going after the demon now?" Dawn asked as she descended the stairs.

"Yeah, it'll be easier to find before dark. There'll be fewer places to look," Buffy answered.

"Oh... can I come?"

"You don't really need to, with this sword I have it covered, as long as it works the way Anya said it would."

"But, I want to come. I wanna help."

"Okay, hurry up and change. We'll leave as soon as you're ready," Buffy said accepting the inevitable.

"Change?" Dawn asked, puzzled.

"Anya said that Kraft demons like it dark and wet which means sewers. Wear something old and not dry clean only."

"Right, I'll be back in a minute. Don't leave without me," Dawn said turning back up the stairs. Then turning back to Buffy she added, "Don't you mean Kratha demons? Kraft is cheese."

"Yeah. Right. I knew that," Buffy said, then in response to Dawn's know it all smirk she added, "Go. Change. Now. You've got ten minutes, then I'm leaving without you."

Dawn ran up the stairs to change. She dug a ratty pair of sweats to match Buffy's outfit out of the bottom of her closet and changed in record time, making it back downstairs with minutes to spare. Her first real slaying expedition, one which promised to be more than wandering around an empty cemetery holding extra stakes, was not to be missed.

The sisters left their house and entered the Sunnydale sewer system through the nearest convenient access, the manhole behind their house. Spike had removed the bolts holding it down ages ago. As soon as they were underground Buffy set off confidently down the right hand passage.

"Do you have any idea where we're going or are we just going to wander around down here till we run into it?" Dawn asked, wrinkling her nose at the sewer stench.

"There are three major junctions where drainage meet. Since it likes to swim, that's probably where we'll find its lair. We're almost at the first one. When we get there I want you to hang back and let me check it out first," Buffy instructed.

"Buffy, I thought we were past the whole keeping little Dawn clueless and out of danger thing," Dawn whined.

"Dawn, I admit I've been a little overprotective..." Buffy began.

"A little!" Dawn interrupted incredulously.

"Okay, a lot overprotective," Buffy admitted, "But, I'm still the Slayer and taking on the most dangerous stuff is my job. I'd ask Willow or Xander the same thing. So will you please let me check things out first?"

"Alright. I promise, I'll stay back and be careful and stuff," Dawn promised, "But you have to be careful too. I'm not the one who died last year."

"Okay, it's a deal. We'll both be super careful so that nothing happens to either of us," Buffy agreed. "Now can we get on with the slaying?"

"Yes, go hack the demon to little bits." 

"Alright, the junction is right around this corner. My spidey sense isn't going off, so I don't think he's there but we'll check anyway. Sometimes I miss the ones that aren't vamps," Buffy said in a business like manner. The Slayer took the task of instructing her sister in demon hunting 101 very seriously.

Buffy peered around the corner, sword in hand and ready to use. After a moment she turned back to Dawn and said, "I don't see him." Then Buffy lead the way into the junction chamber. Murky water was streaming from various pipes into a central pit filled with more murky water. There were also quite a few valves, gauges, and other instruments lining the walls of the chamber with a walkway suspended above the water so that sewer workers could reach them. Buffy circled the room on the walkway, looking over the side into the water and glancing behind large pipes to make sure the monster wasn't there, and Dawn followed close behind.

"He's not here," Dawn said, stating the obvious. "Now what d'we do?"

"Check the other places and hope he's in one of them."

"And if he's not?"

"Then it might be awhile before Mr. MacLeod gets his sword back. If I have to check most of the sewer system it's going to take time," Buffy said purposefully avoiding mention of what the demon would try on the next new moon.

The sisters left the junction chamber and went on to the next one. The Kratha demon wasn't there either. Then they set out for the third and final possibility.

"Eeeew! I just stepped in something nasty," Dawn complained.

"I told you to watch your step," Buffy said without much sympathy. She'd ruined more than one pair of shoes herself in the sewers over the years and Dawn usually just complained about how often Buffy got new stuff.

"No you didn't."

"I didn't? Well then, watch your step," Buffy said with a grin, correcting her earlier omission.

"Thanks a lot. I'll be sure to do that," Dawn answered sarcastically. Then a second later she added, "How long have we been down here?"

"Nearly two hours. Why?"

"Just wondering. It seems like forever and I'm so turned around I have no idea where we are."

"That last manhole cover we passed was at the corner of Maple and Main. The junction we're heading to is only a little farther down, under Elm, near the discount shoe store."

"You're scary."

"I'm the Slayer. I'm suppose to strike fear into the hearts of monsters everywhere. If they have hearts... I strike fear into whatever heart-like thingy they have... in place of a heart."

"No, I mean the fact that you know your way around the sewers better than your way around town is scary. You don't want that to get around, people will start calling you sewer girl."

"Not unless they have a death wish," Buffy warned. Then Buffy stopped abruptly.

"What is it?" Dawn asked.

"It's here. Or something is anyway."

"So what's the plan?"

"The plan is I kill it while you stay out of the way."

"Buffy?" Dawn said, copying Willow's determined face as best she could.

"Alright, if you see a way to distract it--without putting yourself at risk--to give me an opening do it. But, don't waste time trying to hurt it. We've only got the one special sword. So there's not a lot you can do. Like I said before we left, I've got this one covered."

"Okay, distraction. I can handle distraction," Dawn said to herself.

"Let's go then," Buffy said heading into the chamber holding the creature.

This junction chamber was pretty much like the first, pipes, valves, a walkway and lots of dirty water. The only difference was the Kratha demon lying in the water at the bottom of the pit.

Dawn gulped loudly and said, "It looks a lot bigger with all it's tentacles spread out like that."

"Yeah it does," Buffy agreed with a shrug. Then she backed up a few steps and took a running jump at the demon. At first the demon extended its tentacles to grab the Slayer, but when Buffy sliced off the first one with the sword of Kali the demon gave a shriek of agony and tried to flee. Buffy landed feet first on the demon's back then slid off into the hip deep water with a splash. The impact was enough to stun the creature and give Buffy time to get in a fighting position.

Then the battle started in earnest. The demon was backed up against one side of the pit desperately trying to knock the sword from Buffy's hands. Buffy was dodging the demon's attacks and occasionally slipping under it's guard and cutting off a tentacle or two. The demon had a lot of appendages, so it was going to take some time, but Buffy was definitely winning. Each attack she'd cut off more tentacles because the more she cut off the fewer the demon had to defend itself with. This time, pieces which were cut off stayed cut off.

Meanwhile, Dawn was watching the fight from the sidelines. She could see that Buffy would win the fight eventually, if Buffy could keep up the pace. But, Dawn didn't know if Buffy could do it. Sure, her sister had Slayer strength, but she'd also been working double shifts lately. Dawn looked around the room, searching for something she could use to help her sister. Then she spotted some sticks and pebbles at the base of one of the drainage pipes which must have washed in through a broken grate during the last heavy rain storm.

Dawn gathered up the pebbles and edged around the walkway till she was behind the demon. Then she started tossing the stones at the demon as hard as she could. It turned its head briefly to see what the new attack was and swiftly dismissed Dawn as no threat compared to the Slayer. But, the damage was already done. Buffy used the momentary distraction to slice off two more of the creatures tentacles, then she gave Dawn a quick glance of gratitude.

Dawn quickly ran out of pebbles and could only watch her sister fight. Then the Kratha demon, realizing that there was little chance of survival, let loose a loud shriek and charged Buffy. Buffy, lulled by the rhythm the fight had fallen into, was caught totally off guard. She managed to stay on her feet and push the demon back against the wall, but she lost hold of the sword in the process. "Dawn," she called to her sister, "did you see where the sword went?"

"Yeah, but you keep doing what you're doing. I'll get it for you," Dawn said knowing that the demon might manage to get away if Buffy stopped pummeling it even for a minute. Then she went over to the edge of the pit where she saw the sword fall, braced herself, and jumped in. Dawn spared a moment to wince in disgust then she felt along the bottom with her feet for the sword. It was right where she thought it was and a moment later, after she braced herself to stick her hands in the water, she fished out the sword. "Buffy," she called to get her sister's attention, "Catch," she said, tossing the sword.

Buffy caught the sword and, with a certain gleam in her eye, went after the demon with renewed vigor. In a frenzy of blows Buffy eliminated the last of the demon's defenses and ran the sword right through it's heart, pinning what was left of its body to the wall.

The demon looked down at the blade protruding from it's chest, seemingly in shock. Then in a hissing whisper it said, "It does not matter. My part was done. You will die soon." Then the monster started to swell.

"What's happening?" Dawn asked.

"I don't know, but it can't be good," Buffy answered. Then the two hurried to get away from the demon, both girls simultaneously turning toward the ladder located on the opposite side of the pit. Just as they reached the ladder the demon corpse exploded, spraying sticky green slime everywhere.

"Oh, yuck! I'm covered in demon goo. This just can't get any grosser," Dawn complained.

Buffy groaned theatrically and said, "You shouldn't have said that. Now something even ickier has to happen."

"What could be more icky than smelly demon goop in your hair?" Dawn asked inspecting her soiled locks.

"Smelly demon goop that won't wash out of your hair?" Buffy suggested.

Dawn squeaked in fear at the thought and dashed up the ladder saying, "Have to go home and wash. Now."

"Wait a second, I have to get the sword," Buffy said, wading back to retrieve the now demon free sword still stuck in the wall.

"Hurry up. I need to go home and shower, like yesterday."

"Actually, you don't want to do that," Buffy advised.

"Yes, I do. Or at least I think I do... Why don't I want to shower?" Dawn asked confused.

"If you try to wash it out now it's like letting a stain set, the smell will linger for days. You want to wait for it to dry and flake up. Then you comb out the crumbs before washing your hair."

"Are you sure about that? This isn't just some sneaky way for you to get first crack at the hot water?" Dawn asked skeptically.

"Trust me. Who's the one with years of experience washing nasty stuff out of her hair? Besides, I live with you. I'd only be hurting myself if I let you be stinky for the next couple days."

"If you think we ought to wait..." Dawn agreed.

"Come on. We'll drop this sword off at the Magic Box so Anya can return it. It should be dry by the time we get home."

****

CHAPTER 4

Seacouver, earlier that day...

"Methos, we need to leave now, if we're going to make our flight," Duncan prodded without any noticeable success. The elder Immortal was still leisurely enjoying a morning cup of coffee without making any signs of preparing for departure.

"It's not even eight yet and our flight isn't till noon. We have plenty of time," Methos said dismissively. "If you're in such a hurry, you could go ahead and put the bags in the car."

"Fine. I'll do that. But, then we're leaving," Duncan ordered. Then Duncan gathered up their luggage and headed out to his SUV, muttering to himself the whole time about sloth and certain Immortals he knew.

"You did that simply to irritate him," Legolas, who had been meditating in order to fortify himself for the car trip, accused.

"Maybe I did... maybe I didn't," Methos said with a shrug. "We do have plenty of time before the flight and I hate waiting in airports. Ready for another trip in one of our 'mechanical devices'?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," Legolas said with some trepidation. "I have to admire the great convenience of your cars and planes. The distances machines allow you to travel in short time is wondrous. But, I can not like them. Being enclosed in a metal box while being hurled across the countryside seems wrong, somehow."

"I could never understand that. I remember when the train, the earliest of the traveling machines, was invented. A lot of people were afraid to ride on one. They thought they went too fast and a person's blood might boil from the speed. I couldn't wait to try one out."

"Gimli would feel the same way, I am sure. He would be excited to know how they work and to make one himself."

"Too bad he isn't here," Methos said, nodding in agreement.

"Yes, I do miss him, but perhaps it is for the best. If he had made the trip dwarf size traveling machines would appear all about the countryside soon after our return. As great as the benefits of such machines may be, Middle-earth would never be the same afterwards."

"There is that. Middle-earth would lose something if it were suddenly motorized. Although, it's bound to happen eventually. Change is inevitable."

"Perhaps, but that change need not happen soon. Horses should suffice for a time yet," Legolas insisted, not at all enamored of modern transportation.

Duncan came back inside and said, "The bags are all stored and you've had time to finish your coffee. Now, can we leave?"

Methos finished the last swallow of coffee and put the cup in the sink. Then glancing at his watch said, "We should probably leave. And, Mac, you better step on it. We don't want to miss out flight," as if he hadn't been the one procrastinating for the past hour.

Duncan's eyes briefly widened in disbelief at Methos's gall, but then he remembered who he was dealing with and simply answered, "Of course, whatever you say Methos."

"I believe he won that round," Legolas quietly observed to Methos as they went out to MacLeod's SUV. "He doesn't even look like he wants to strangle you, and that was the reaction you were going for, wasn't it?"

"Call it a draw. Notice, we're not leaving at the ungodly hour Mac planned for our departure," Methos pointed out, climbing into the back seat of the SUV.

"I would not be so sure of that. I couldn't help overhearing his conversation with Joe. He said we'd be by at eight-thirty and unless I am mistaken it is only now a quarter to nine," Legolas said as he got into the other side.

"That sneaky Scot! He only told me six in the morning to be difficult," Methos exclaimed, eyes narrowed in calculation. "I can't believe he's still sore about the private jet bill."

"I believe he said something about a missing book?" Legolas suggested.

"The first edition Keats," Methos said wincing. "I didn't think he'd notice it missing for a while yet."

"You stole a book from your friend?" Legolas asked, one eyebrow raised.

"I wouldn't say steal exactly. I did plan to return it, before he even noticed it was gone," Methos said defensively. Then turning toward Duncan, who was seated in front of him in the drivers seat, he said, "I was going to return it."

"I don't mind your borrowing it, I just wish you'd asked," Duncan said as he pulled out of the driveway.

"If you would have loaned it to me anyway, what's the problem?" Methos asked.

"Never mind Methos, you wouldn't understand," Duncan said dryly. Then after a moment he added, "What did you want it for anyway? A first edition Keats isn't exactly up your alley."

"Keats is a favorite of Martha Simms, the head of Archaeology at Columbia. She's currently digging up a temple I once lived in for a couple years and we discussed my buying certain artifacts, over dinner, a few weeks before my unscheduled trip," Methos explained.

"Isn't 'borrowing' one of my books a little far to go, just to get on this woman's good side?" Duncan asked.

"Never underestimate the value of a good first impression and a good first impression is all in the details," Methos explained.

"If you say so, but next time you want to make a good first impression with my belongings, make sure you ask first."

Duncan stopped by Joe's place to pick him up; then all four of them proceeded to the Seattle airport. Duncan had planned the drive just right. They arrived at the airport, after a pleasant early lunch in Seattle, with just enough time to check their luggage and for Duncan and Methos to attend to the special shipping instructions for their swords. The Immortals couldn't carry their swords onto the plane with them, so special arrangements had to be made to insure the blades weren't lost, as checked luggage often was.

They boarded the plane at precisely noon, but with the increased holiday traffic take off was a bit late; they had to wait for a free run way. It was a fairly small plane, which made sense seeing as their destination was a very small regional airport rather than a major hub. What didn't make sense was the minuscule number of people on the flight. There were only three passengers other than their little group. Sunnydale, a town none of them had ever heard of before, couldn't attract too many visitors, but this was bizarre. Considering the time of year, they'd come expecting a pretty full flight.

Joe, nearly as insatiably curious as Methos, waved a flight attendant over. "I'm sorry sir, but I can't serve any refreshments until the plane is in the air," the petite blond woman said apologetically.

"That's fine... Angie," Joe answered, reading her name tag. "That's not what I was going to ask. I was wondering if there were some more passengers we're waiting on?" he asked looking around at the nearly empty plane.

"Oh no, this is it. There're never very many people going to Sunnydale during the holidays," the stewardess said.

"There aren't? Then why is there a flight? Isn't the airline losing money?" Joe asked, confused.

"Well, there aren't very many people going to Sunnydale, but there's always a lot of people wanting to leave for Christmas. The outgoing flight is always packed, mostly with students from Sunnydale U going home for the holidays. Since they need to send a plane there anyway, I guess they figure they might as well sell any tickets they can," Angie explained with a shrug. 

"I suppose that makes sense," Joe agreed. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Angie replied with a smile, grateful to have a polite passenger for a change. "Let me know if there's anything else I can do for you," she said then went back to the galley to finish preparing the snack cart.

"What do you make of that?" Joe asked his friends. "What kind of town is it that everyone wants to get out of and no one wants to visit?"

"A small town with a big college?" Duncan suggested, not overly concerned. "It's not surprising a lot of kids fly home for Christmas."

"No there's something more to it than that," Methos said, in agreement with Joe's suspicion that something peculiar was going on. "There's something I'm forgetting," Methos continued, brow wrinkled in thought. "I know I've heard of Sunnydale before, somewhere, and I'm pretty sure there was something significant about it, but I can't remember what."

"That sounds ominous," Duncan said.

"It was supposed to sound ominous. I'm don't know what I'm forgetting, but I'm pretty sure it isn't good, whatever it is," said Methos. 

"What could be so bad about a little Southern California town? It's called Sunnydale for chrissakes, what could possibly be so wrong with it?" Duncan asked giving little credence to Methos's vague warnings.

"Now that you mention it, Sunnydale sounds familiar to me too," Joe interjected. "Isn't that the place that came down with a city wide case of laryngitis a year or two ago?"

"Oh yeah, I remember that," Duncan said. "There was that news report from inside the town where the reporter mimed everything and there were all those people walking around with dry erase slates."

"There was something else," Methos insisted. "There's something important I'm forgetting. Something we should know."

"Keep working on it. I'm sure it'll come to you eventually," Duncan said, still unconcerned.

"If there is some danger in Sunnydale we are unaware of, perhaps this trip should wait until Methos can remember what he has forgotten," Legolas suggested.

"I don't think that'll be necessary. If it were really important, he would have remembered," Duncan began.

"At least, we hope I would have remembered," Methos interrupted, pessimistically.

Then, slightly louder, Duncan continued, "But, you don't have to come if you don't want to. I'll give Methos my keys and you can go back to my house." 

"No, as much as I'd like to avoid another flight, I will stay. I am curious about the nature of the mysterious woman who took your sword," said Legolas.

"What if I decided I didn't want to come?" Methos asked querulously. Duncan hadn't offered his keys when he'd claimed to be uneasy about the trip.

"Then you can get a cab, or walk," said Duncan.

"That's hardly fair. Joe, would you call that fair?" Methos asked the Watcher.

"Leave me out of it," the Watcher said. "You two can spend the whole flight making up for the lack of road trips during your childhood if you want to, but I plan on enjoying a nice long in flight nap." Then Joe arranged one of those U-shaped travel pillows to suit him and closed his eyes for a nap.

"Joe?" Methos said.

"What is it, Adam?" Joe asked, giving the ancient Immortal a sidelong glance through barely open eyes.

"Are we there yet?" the ancient Immortal asked in a sing-song voice. 

* * * * * * 

Sunnydale airport, late afternoon...

The four men stepped off the plane and headed toward the baggage claim. Legolas was looking more and more green with each step. Noticing the elf's discomfort, Joe asked, "Is something wrong Legolas? You're not looking so good."

"I do not feel so good," Legolas explained. "There is something very wrong with this place. Evil energies lay over everything. It is very much like the Dark Lands, before they were rid of Sauron."

"Are you going to be okay?" Duncan asked concerned, now that Joe had brought the elf's discomfort to his attention. "We can rent a car and have you out of here in a couple hours."

"No, I will be fine. I only need a moment to adjust. I'm only feeling ill because I was unprepared. I should be able to block most of it out," Legolas reassured, already starting to look better.

"Evil energies..." Methos murmured to himself. "Of course, now I remember!" he exclaimed, snapping his fingers.

Duncan, Joe, and Legolas looked at Methos inquiringly and Duncan said, "Remember what?"

"Sunnydale was built on the site of a Spanish mission which mysteriously disappeared and the place was known as Boca del Inferno," Methos explained.

"Sunnydale, California is the Mouth of Hell?" Duncan asked incredulously.

"That's what they called it, and Legolas is getting queasy from evil vibes," Methos argued. "Besides, why not Sunnydale, California? If there is a Mouth of Hell, I suppose Sunnydale is as good a place as any for it."

"Assuming it is the Mouth of Hell, what are we supposed to do about it?" Duncan said skeptically.

"You've got me. Other than finish your business and leave as soon as possible, I don't know that there is anything we can do," Methos answered.

"Maybe we could finish this conversation later, after we've checked into the hotel? I'd like a long shower and Legolas could probably use a rest," Joe suggested.

"Yes, I would like a chance to meditate," Legolas seconded.

"Right," Duncan agreed. "I'll get the car, you get the bags and I'll meet you out front," he said giving Methos the papers he'd need in order to pick up Duncan's sword. Duncan and Methos might bicker like children, or an old married couple, but underneath all the wrangling they were actually very close friends, as illustrated by the way Duncan let Methos see to retrieving his sword without a second thought.

They managed to claim their luggage and their car in fairly short order, since the airport was nearly deserted, and arrived at the hotel where they had reservations minutes later. Joe and Legolas both retired to their rooms with some relief, agreeing to meet for dinner in a few hours. Methos, having asked the bellboy about Internet accessibility on the way to his room, planned on seeing what he could find on Sunnydale. He'd looked up Anya and the Magic Box previously, but hadn't thought to look up the town itself. Duncan, antsy after hours sitting and basically doing nothing, unpacked his suit case, then began pacing his room. After the third lap he decided he might as well check out the Magic Box before dinner.

Duncan left his room and walked down the hall to the staircase at the end. When he reached the stairs, he paused for a moment then turned back down the hall and stopped in front of Methos's door. Duncan knocked and Methos called, "Come in," knowing it was Duncan.

Duncan opened the door halfway and looked around the edge. "I spotted the Magic Box on the way in; it's only about a block from here. I was just going to stroll over there and see what I could find out. Want to come along?"

"Maybe you shouldn't do that, just yet," Methos suggested.

"I shouldn't?" Duncan asked, one eyebrow raised. "Isn't that our entire reason for coming? To visit the Magic Box?" he continued as he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

"Of course we'll check it out eventually, but in light of Legolas's reaction and the rumors about this place being the Mouth of Hell, not to mention the magically disappearing woman who claimed to be fighting demons, don't you think a certain amount of caution would be in order? At least wait until after I've had time to do a little checking."

"You don't actually believe that there's an opening to hell here do you?" Duncan asked incredulously. "I didn't think you even believed in hell."

"I do believe in hell, after a fashion, at least in a psychological sense, but that isn't the issue here. Whether there's some sort of literal portal to hell here or not, I don't know. What I do know is that there's something very strange about this place, something which isn't good and is most likely very dangerous. After all, there's usually some grain of truth in every story and I'd prefer not to learn what the truth behind the name Boca del Inferno is first hand. I'd like that information to come to me from a nice safe distance," Methos argued. Seeing that he wasn't making too much of an impact on his friend he continued, "And, I remind you again of the mysteriously disappearing, demon fighting, woman and the fact that Legolas feels an evil presence. How much more evidence of an unknown evil do you need?"

"I appreciate your concern, but I think you're making too much of this," Duncan replied. "Boca del Inferno could just come from an earthquake splitting the ground open, Sunnydale is located on a major fault after all. Isn't that much likelier than some mystical evilness? As for our thief, you said yourself Cassandra could do something similar. Psychic abilities are strange enough, that doesn't mean there's evil and danger lurking behind every bush. And Legolas's reaction... nothing against him personally, but I'm not going to start worrying just because he's picking up bad vibes," Duncan said, in a tone implying that Methos was hovering dangerously near the UFO-chasing-tea-leaf-reading lunatic fringe.

"Just bad vibes?" Methos asked indignantly. "Legolas isn't some new age hippie. He's an elf! From another dimension! They have a sixth sense about these things. If he says there's something wrong, then there is something wrong. I thought I explained all this to you."

"From another dimension I'll grant you. I grew up with stories of the fair folk and the land of the fairies, that part makes a certain amount of sense. He looks the part well enough too, but once you get past the looks he's pretty much like a lot of the men I've fought beside in the past. He enjoys fine wines and a good fight, likes to be useful, is honorable to a fault, and is unfailingly loyal to his friends and his principles. He's also from a highly superstitious world, not unlike Europe of a few centuries ago, and finds himself suddenly thrown into a place totally foreign to him, where you insist on making dire predictions for the future. Of course he thinks there's something wrong. How could he not?" Duncan argued back.

Methos opened and closed his mouth a few times, as if about to say something but changing his mind at the last minute. Finally, scratching his chin thoughtfully, Methos asked, "Do you really believe all that? What you just said?"

"Yes," Duncan said hesitantly, having no idea what Methos was getting at, "yes, I do."

"Well, you better be on your way then," Methos said with a careless shrug. "The Magic Box probably closes soon."

"You're not going to try to convince me not to go?" Duncan asked confused.

"No, of course not. You're a grown-up and well able to take care of yourself. If you are set on going, far be it from me to try to stop you," Methos said placing a hand on Duncan's shoulder and turning him toward the door. "But, watch your head and be back before dark. Remember what the manager said about not being out past sunset; he might not let you back in if you're late," Methos said as he opened the door and practically shoved Duncan into the hallway.

Duncan, now in the hallway, turned around to look at the door just slammed behind him and said, "I wonder what got in to him?" Then he left the hotel to walk the block and a half to the Magic Box.

* * * * * *

Anya was in the Magic Box's store room busily unpacking a new shipment of goods. She opened up a crate and took out a glass jar of chicken's feet. "Chicken feet!" Anya exclaimed. "I didn't order any chicken feet! Everyone knows there's no money in the chicken trade. If Artemis tries charging me for these, he's going to regret it." The bells recently re-hung in front of the door chimed and Anya called out, "Buffy? I'm in the back. Did you take care of the Kratha?"

A few seconds later a man who appeared to be the very definition of tall, dark, and handsome stepped into the stock room and said, "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I'm not who you were expecting."

Anya, having turned back to her chicken feet, was startled to hear a male voice behind her. She whirled around in surprise and on seeing who her visitor was, she dropped the jar, shattering it into lots of tiny little slivers. "Uhm... The store is undergoing renovations and won't reopen till after Christmas. Please come back then and spend money," Anya said, pretending as if she didn't recognize the man as, Duncan MacLeod, the one she'd borrowed the sword from. "We'll have a lot of new very expensive items which I'm sure you'll be interested in," she added taking his arm and trying to lead him out of the shop.

Duncan wasn't budging. "Actually there is one, very expensive, item I'm interested in, a certain sword I think you might have acquired just a couple days ago."

"A sword? No swords. We don't have any swords. You'll just have to look somewhere else," Anya insisted.

"Somewhere else? Like, say, your apartment?" he asked, one eyebrow raised in inquiry.

"My apartment?" Anya said with a nervous giggle. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean that if the sword you stole from me isn't here, it must be at your place, unless you've sold it already," Duncan said, a hint of steel entering his voice.

Anya's spine went rigid and she said with great indignation, "I did not steal your sword. I have great respect for the sanctity of property rights and would never stoop to theft. You have no right to make such foul accusations about me and I want you to leave this instant."

Momentarily taken aback by Anya's vehemence and apparent sincerity, a hint of doubt crept into Duncan's mind as to whether or not Anya was indeed the guilty party. "My apologies madam. It seems I've made a mistake," he said stiffly then left the stock room.

"That was close. The sooner I put that sword back the better I'll feel," Anya murmured in relief as soon as the stock room door swung shut.

Then the door bells chimed again and a familiar voice called, "Hey, Anya! The Kratha's toast, or well more like an icky jelly..."

"Buffy!" Anya squeaked and raced out of the stock room to greet her, hoping that she'd managed to just miss Duncan. Anya's hope was in vain. Not only was Duncan still there, he was currently staring at the sword of Kali which Buffy happened to be holding.

"Who's your friend?" Buffy asked, nodding in Duncan's direction.

Anya sighed in resignation and decided to perform the introductions. "Buffy, this is Duncan MacLeod, the owner of the sword. Mr. MacLeod, may I present Buffy and Dawn Summers, the ones who needed the sword."

"Hi," Dawn said half apologetically, giving a little wave.

"Yeah, sorry for the, uh, inconvenience," Buffy said handing the sword to Duncan, hilt first.

Duncan took the sword from Buffy and then turned to face Anya. "You didn't steal the sword. You're not a thief and I had no right to accuse you," he said sarcastically.

Anya winced a little and said, "I'm not. I was going to bring it back. I told you I would when I took it. If you'd just believed me and stayed home, you could have saved yourself the trip."

"You spoke to him when you took it?" Buffy asked. "I thought he wasn't suppose to even realize it was missing?"

"He wasn't, but then he walked in at just the wrong time and I had to say something," Anya explained.

"Couldn't you have just, you know, done that thing, so he wouldn't have known you were there?" Dawn asked.

"I would have, but by the time I noticed him, it was already too late," answered Anya.

While this conversation was taking place, Duncan was silently taking it all in, in utter disbelief. This was bizarre, even for him. He had caught the culprits red handed, but instead of making excuses and trying to convince him not to press charges, they were calmly discussing the crime as if he wasn't even in the room. Duncan cleared his throat, to get the girls' attention, and said, "Could one of you please explain what is going on here?"

Buffy, Dawn, and Anya looked at each other nervously for a moment. Anya gave Buffy and Dawn a wide-eyed questioning look and mouthed, "You explain," behind Duncan's back. Dawn shook her head slightly, to refuse Anya's order then she nudged her sister. Buffy gave Dawn and Anya evil looks for passing the story telling task to her then she began, "It's a funny story really."

"Is it?" Duncan said dryly.

"Yeah, hilarious. You're going to laugh," Buffy continued with a forced laugh and her most winning smile, desperately trying to come up with an explanation.

"I'm listening," he replied, crossing his arms in front of his chest, clearly, not at all amused.

****

CHAPTER 5

"Yes, uhmm, well, you see, it was like this..." Buffy fumbled around, looking for some halfway plausible explanation for their taking the sword. "It was a... sorority prank."

"Scavenger hunt," Dawn finished at the same time.

"That's right it was a sorority scavenger hunt," Buffy said with a nervous little laugh. "You know, your typical borrow a really rare sword from someone, take a few wacky pictures with it, and return it good as new. Just a harmless little prank all in the name of sisterly bonding," Buffy babbled on.

"Go sisterhood! Woohoo!" Anya added making a little pumping motion with her fist.

"You belong to a sorority that steals antique swords for fun?" Duncan said incredulously.

"Borrows swords for fun," Buffy corrected.

"Of course, pardon me. Borrows swords for fun," Duncan granted, rolling his eyes. "But, that still doesn't explain how Ms. Jenkins managed to disappear into thin air with my property."

Buffy, Anya, and Dawn exchanged a few more significant glances then Dawn blurted out, "Holograph?"

While Buffy said, "Trick of the light," at precisely the same moment. 

Then Anya jumped into explain, "I didn't just disappear. How could I? To do that I'd have to be a vengeance demon with the ability to teleport or something and of course I'm not because there isn't really any such thing. You were mistaken. I, uh, climbed out the window really, really fast. There was no disappearing."

"That's all very interesting, but now I'd like to know what really happened," Duncan insisted in a friendly tone, but with the faintest hint of steal beneath it.

Buffy, busily picking the now dry demon goo from her hair, sighed in resignation and said, "Fine then, if you really want to know."

"Yes, I really do," Duncan said.

"We needed a sword of Kali to kill a Kratha demon. Yours was the closest one with the least security. Anya used her vengeance demon powers to teleport in and grab it. Me and Dawn just killed the demon and were bringing the sword to Anya so she could teleport back with it," Buffy explained matter of factly as she continued to pick at her hair. "Is that what you wanted to know?" she added, grinning impishly.

Duncan silently contemplated the three girls for a few moments. "You should have stuck with the sorority scavenger hunt story," he said. Then he put the sword inside his trench coat and headed toward the door, saying, "I don't know what you girls are up to, but I'd suggest you think up a better cover story or better yet stop 'borrowing' other people's property."

"We'll do that," Buffy agreed cheerily, happy that he was finally leaving. Then she stepped to one side so that he could get to the door.

Duncan stepped between the two sisters on the way out. He reached the door, opened it halfway then paused to look back a Dawn for a moment. Then, he left the shop.

"What do you think that was about?" Dawn asked.

"What was what about?" replied Buffy.

"The way he looked at me right before he left. Why did he look at me? He didn't look at you or Anya," Dawn answered.

"What kind of look was it? It wasn't one of those 'I know you're the key stares' was it?" Buffy asked concerned.

"I don't think so. I mean he didn't look like all those people who knew I wasn't normal, but that could be because he isn't crazy. All those other people looked crazy, because they were," Dawn said.

"Maybe he just thought you're the weakest link," Anya suggested. "With shoplifters I always focus on the youngest. They're usually the first to break."

"Yeah, that could be it. He seriously wasn't buying the sorority scavenger hunt thing. I'll keep an eye on him as long as he's in town, just in case, but there's no reason to think he knows anything he shouldn't," said Buffy. 

"Of course, he didn't buy your story, it was really bad," Anya agreed.

"Hey, I didn't see you jumping in to explain," Buffy complained. 

"Uh, Buffy? Do you think it's time to wash this stuff out of our hair yet?" Dawn interjected.

"Yeah, it's dry enough. We should be getting home," Buffy agreed.

"Okay, Anya, I'll see you tomorrow for inventory," said Dawn, taking the task of repaying Anya for stolen merchandise very seriously.

"Bye Anya," Buffy added.

"Goodbye," Anya waved them off as she headed back to the stock room.

* * * * * *

Back at the hotel...

Methos was knocking on Joe's door. "It's not locked." Joe called from inside the room. 

Methos opened the door an ducked inside. "Have a minute?" he asked.

"Sure, what's up?" Joe asked, as he was rummaging through his luggage, looking for something.

"It's Duncan."

"What about Duncan?" Joe asked absently.

"Have you noticed anything strange about him lately?"

"Strange how?"

"Strange as in burying his head in the sand and denying reality. He has a tendency to be a little overly idealistic, but ignoring what's right in front of him isn't normal," Methos explained.

"What exactly is it that he's ignoring?" asked Joe.

"Just anything and everything supernatural. This place is reputed to be the mouth of hell, Legolas senses enough evil to make him sick, a woman with the power to disappear swipes his sword in order to hunt demons, and he still thinks there's nothing strange about this place. What's more he shrugs off my trip to Middle-earth as insignificant and dismisses Legolas as a regular guy who happens to have pointy ears," Methos presented his case, pacing back and forth in front of the door and punctuating each point with an emphatic hand gesture. "Joe, he's being completely unreasonable," Methos concluded stopping right in front of Joe.

"It might not be reasonable, but it's certainly understandable," Joe argued.

"Understandable?" 

"When you consider his recent experiences with the supernatural, first the dark quickening and then Ahriman, it's easy to see why he wouldn't want to believe anything weird was going on."

"But, it is! And, what he wants to believe won't change that any. His stubborn disbelief is going to get him into trouble," Methos said, anxiously running a hand through his still long locks.

"I agree, but what can we do about it? He's going to believe what he wants to until he's forced to believe something different," Joe said fatalistically.

"Then that's what we need to do, force him to see the truth."

"How do we do that?" Joe asked skeptically.

"We sit him down and have a honest discussion of what is and what isn't going on," Methos suggested.

"You think we should hold a supernatural intervention for Mac's benefit?" Joe asked, chuckling at the idea.

"What's so funny about that? Do you have any better ideas?" Methos asked indignantly.

"You have to admit it borders on the absurd. And the idea of you leading it, the last man to be convinced something out of the ordinary was going on last year," Joe explained shaking his head slightly at the absurdity of the suggestion.

"Okay, so I was skeptical about demons? So what? Now I know the truth and Mac should too, better than anyone. But, he's ignoring all of the evidence and someone has to do something before he gets himself into trouble," Methos insisted.

"Alright, I admit you have a point. We'll corner him at dinner and see if we can talk some sense into him," Joe agreed. "Ah, there it is. I knew I packed one," Joe added, talking to himself.

"Huh?" Methos asked, confused by that last remark.

"My razor fell out of my shaving kit. I just found it."

"Oh."

* * * * * *

Sipping an espresso at the coffee shop two doors down from the Magic Box, Duncan contemplated what he'd just found out. 'I wonder what those girls are up to. They couldn't honestly believe that story about demons, even if it sounded a lot more sincere than the other one. Or at least I hope for their sakes that they don't.

'And, what was that stuff the short blond, what was her name... something like you'd name a cat? Muffin or Puff Ball? Buffy? That was it. What was Buffy picking out of her hair? Paint or glue maybe?

'Then there was Anya. She was more than a little strange. I don't think I've ever met anyone quite so... abrupt or... literal. I could believe she's unstable enough to believe she's fighting demons. And, if she has some psychic abilities, that would lend a certain amount of credence to her delusions. Maybe demon fighting is her delusion and she used her abilities to suck Buffy and Dawn into her fantasy?

'Or, perhaps Buffy and Dawn know perfectly well that it is a delusion and just go along with it for Anya's sake. They could take the sword and then smear themselves with a little paint as evidence of their 'heroic' battle and return the sword all to humor their friend. That could be it. Buffy and Dawn seemed a little nervous, but they appeared sane enough. Of course that's probably just wishful thinking on my part. It'll be a lot easier on me if they have a good grasp on reality, but what if they don't?

'If Buffy and Dawn are delusional, then what do I do? Dawn is almost definitely going to be an Immortal one day, and that's hard enough without mental instability to contend with. What if they aren't so much unstable as highly impressionable? Maybe with a change of environment, things will sort themselves out? But, how on earth would I manage that?

'You're getting a little ahead of yourself, aren't you MacLeod?' Duncan thought shaking his head slightly and grinning a little at his own thoughts. 'Who knows what those girls actually think? There's a good chance that it was just a story they used to get rid of me. Buffy sounded like she believed it, but I don't know her. I don't know how good a liar she is. Actually, come to think of it, the story about demons isn't such a bad idea. If I went to the police saying that a group of teenage girls admitted to stealing my sword so they could hunt demons, I'd be locked in a padded cell.'

Duncan finished his coffee and left some money on the table just as the sun was starting to set. He left the coffee shop intending to meet his friends back at the hotel for dinner, but then he spotted Buffy and Dawn across the street, heading in the opposite direction. His friends wouldn't be expecting him back for a little while yet, so he decided to follow the girls in order to see what he could find out.

Keeping just out of sight, Duncan strained to hear the girl's conversation. "Did we have to stop now? Couldn't it have waited till after we'd showered?" Dawn whined.

"Fifty percent off really cute boots!" Buffy said holding up a shopping bag. "No, of course it couldn't wait!"

"Great, you'll have cute shoes to wear to my social life's funeral," Dawn complained.

"Social life's funeral? Isn't that a little much?" Buffy asked.

"If running into Karen Thomas while I'm covered in smelly goo didn't kill my social life, it at least put it on the critical list!" Dawn insisted.

"So you're a little smelly? It's not the end of the world," Buffy said with a shrug.

"Well, not literal end of the world, end of the world. But, it is teenage, I'm starting high school soon and Karen is the most popular girl in school, end of the world. You do remember high school, don't you?" 

"Oh yeah, high school. Sorry. Maybe by the time school starts she'll have forgotten," Buffy suggested optimistically.

"And if she doesn't?"

"If she doesn't, you'll live. A lot worse things are bound to happen."

"Buffy!" Dawn squeaked. "That is so not helping!"

Duncan smiled to himself, somewhat reassured by this interchange. Buffy and Dawn were sounding a lot more normal.

"It's getting dark," Buffy observed.

"It has a tendency to do that this time a day. That's why they call it sunset," Dawn replied.

"Ha ha, very funny," Buffy said dryly. "What I meant was, it's getting dark, maybe we shouldn't take the short cut through the cemetery."

"Why not? Don't you want to get home and shower? Or is this stuff really starting to grow on you?" Dawn asked.

"Of course I want to shower. I'm just wondering if the short cut is going to turn into a long cut where we get stuck in the evening breakfast traffic," Buffy explained.

'Evening breakfast traffic? What? And through a cemetery?' Duncan wondered to himself.

"Oh, I didn't think of that," Dawn said. Then she added, "Let's chance it. I don't want to walk all the way around if I don't have to."

"I'm game if you are, but remember everything I told you," Buffy admonished as she turned down the path to the cemetery.

"I remember. They're stronger. They're faster. I have to be smarter," Dawn recited.

"Right."

"Uhmm... Buffy? What if they're smarter too?" Dawn asked, the possibility just occuring to her.

"That's where the running comes in."

"Oh," said Dawn. "But how do I know if they're smarter or not, before it's too late."

"You don't, which is why I stressed the running part. Especially, if I'm not here," Buffy said.

"Come on Buffy, you know I can do better than run away," Dawn wheedled.

"Yes, you can. You're smart, resourceful, and you've got the Summer's spirit, but you've still got to be careful not to take on more than you can handle," Buffy said, very seriously.

"Alright, alright, I've got it already. I'll be careful," Dawn said rolling her eyes at Buffy's hundred and eleventh warning to be careful.

"That's all I ask."

"So, you really think I've got the Summer's spirit?" Dawn asked.

"Yeah, you're just like Mom. Did you know she hit Spike with an axe once?" Buffy asked with a slightly melancholy grin. The thought of Joyce hitting Spike with an axe always brought a smile to her face, but thinking of her mother still made her a little sad.

"Mom hit Spike with an axe?! When did she do that? I always thought Mom liked Spike?"

"Oh, it was a long time ago. Back before Spike was chipped, when I was still dating Angel. It was that time 'PCP freaks' attacked parent teacher night," Buffy explained.

'Their mother hit someone with an axe? Maybe that's where the delusions come from. The woman did name her child Buffy,' Duncan speculated. 'And, what's this about PCP freaks and guys with names like Angel and Spike? The more I find out about these two, the stranger...' Just then three vampires stepped on to the path, just in front of Buffy and Dawn. Their glowing eyes and deformed faces stopped Duncan in his tracks. He just couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"Look what we have here," the lead vampire said, "meals on wheels."

"Hello, walking," Dawn pointed out, motioning toward her feet.

"She's right. That didn't make any sense," Buffy agreed. "You'll have to do better than that."

"How 'bout I just kill you," the vampire continued with an overdone maniacal laugh, his two cronies joining in a beat later.

"I don't think he has any idea who I am," Buffy observed to Dawn.

"Looks like," Dawn agreed.

"I know exactly who you are. You're breakfast and it looks like I'm going to kill you," the vampire insisted.

"Dawn, you got your stake?" Buffy asked.

"Yep," Dawn said pulling a stake from her sleave.

"And, I've got mine," Buffy added pulling mister pointy from her waist band. "Now, mister scary vampire are you going to attack us already? Or are you going to just stand there making oh so witty comments?" she asked sarcastically.

On seeing the vampire's faces, Duncan's first impulse was to rush to the rescue. When the girls didn't look particularly concerned and the exchange of inane witticisms began he decided to hang back and see what happened. This seemed to be more of a farce than a life and death situation.

Provoked beyond bearing by Buffy making fun of him, the leader ran at Buffy. Buffy calmly stepped to one side and staked him. "Now who's next?" Buffy asked as the first vampire's corpse turned to dust. The remaining two vampires both attacked.

Buffy was easily holding both of the vampires off, waiting for an opening to kill one without giving the other an opening to attack her. Duncan was leaning against a tombstone trying to make sense of what he was seeing. One small girl who shouldn't be nearly as strong as she was, a fanged creature with glowing eyes that turned to dust after a wooden stake to the heart, as much as he didn't want to believe it, he couldn't deny what was right in front of him. Buffy Summers was killing vampires, and she was doing it in a way that clearly showed that this wasn't anything new for her.

Once Duncan admitted the truth to himself, he was torn. On one hand, his first instinct was to help. His code of chivalry didn't allow him to sit back and watch while a petite woman fought the forces of darkness. On the other hand, she seemed to have the situation well in hand and if he were perfectly honest, he'd have to admit that he'd be more likely to get in the way than to help. While Duncan was debating what to do, the situation resolved itself.

Dawn snuck up behind one of the vampires fighting Buffy and staked him from behind. Buffy, now free to concentrate on the last vampire, dispatched him very swiftly. "Thanks Dawn, that was good thinking," Buffy said.

"It was, wasn't it," Dawn agreed.

"You know, you really have to work on these self esteem issues of yours," Buffy said, brushing vampire dust off her sweats.

Then the sound of clapping came from beside a nearby crypt. "Very well done, but I doubt you'll fare so well with me and my friends, Slayer," said a blond vampire as he stepped out of the shadows. He died fairly young and was now affecting the Musketeer look, pairing a ruffled shirt with the standard leather pants. 

"Great, Lestat redux," Buffy said affecting a little yawn. "Could we just skip the pre-game chitchat and get right to the fighting? I'd like to get home sometime tonight."

"As you wish," the vampire said then he clapped his hand twice more and his friends stepped into view.

"Buffy?" Dawn said nervously. "Would this be a good time to run?" she asked counting twelve vampires in addition to the musketeer wannabe.

"Thirteen vamps, two of us, yeah this would be a good time, except for one thing," said Buffy turning her back to her sister, in order to face the vampires encircling them.

"What's that?" Dawn asked, clutching her stake and standing back to back with Buffy, ready for battle.

"They're still faster than us. If we run, they'll follow," Buffy said grimly.

"Right," Dawn said with a nod. "We'll just have to take care of them here," Dawn said, summoning her determination.

"That 'a girl," Buffy said with a wicked grin. "Don't worry Dawn. We're about to kick some major vamp ass." Just as Buffy finished her quasi-pep talk the vampires managed to summon up their courage enough to launch the first attack. No matter what their fearless leader said, attacking the Slayer was a scary thing to do.

Buffy staked one right off. Seeing their compatriot turn to dust caused four of them to run away without putting up any fight. Some of the ones who remained hesitated for a minute as well, so the first attack came from a very manageable three vamps. Buffy took on two and Dawn kept ducking the third one.

Seeing the two girls attacked by eight vampires made Duncan's mind up for him. At this point he waded into the battle. Buffy kicked one of the vampires attacking her in the head, stunning it long enough for her to stake it. A second vamp followed closely after the first, he'd paused a moment too long watching the first vamp turn to dust. Dawn was still dodging the first vampire to attack her and was keeping an eye out for a way to stake him. Meanwhile, Duncan drew his katana and engaged three of the vampires who'd been hanging back at the edges, including the frilly shirted leader.

Dawn finally managed to stake her vampire. She did a little happy dance, checked to see if Buffy needed any help, saw that her sister was handling the two vamps attacking her just fine, and then she noticed Duncan struggling with the other three. Duncan wasn't doing too bad. He had them on the defensive. He'd cut off the leader's hand. Another had a broken knee. And, Duncan was in the midst of running the third one through. "They're vampires. You have to decapitate them, or a stake through the heart," Dawn suggested helpfully.

"Thanks," Duncan said, pulling his sword free of the vamp and swiftly chopping off it's head. Duncan jumped a little in surprise when the vampire turned to dust, but quickly recovered. He then dodged a clumsy attempt at revenge from the one handed leader, then decapitated him. Dawn staked the one with the broken knee while he was still lying on the ground clutching his leg in agony.

Suddenly noticing that they were the only ones left, the two facing Buffy decided to run away. Buffy, still covered in demon goo and really wanting a shower, decided not to chase them. 

Buffy, Dawn, and Duncan now facing each other across a cemetery path cleared of vampires, fell into an awkward silence. Then Buffy began, "So Mr. MacLeod, what brings you to the cemetery this time of night? No, let me guess. Coincidence, or maybe you were lost?"

"I admit it; I was following you," Duncan replied unapologetically.

"And, why would you want to do that?" Buffy said giving him her most wide eyed innocent look.

"Come on, you have to admit that story about the demon sounded pretty fishy. I thought if I followed you I might find out the truth. How could I know that you really did borrow my sword to kill a demon? You did borrow it to kill a demon, didn't you?" Duncan replied with a pose of innocence equal to Buffy's.

"Yes, we did slay a demon. But, are you sure simple curiosity was the only reason you were following us? That there isn't some evil plan in the works I should know about? I noticed that the sword you used on the vamps wasn't the same one we just gave back to you. Do you normally carry around large bladed weapons?" Buffy asked, highly suspicious of Duncan's motives.

"Buffy, Mr. MacLeod helped us, even after we borrowed his things without asking," Dawn admonished. "The least we can do is not accuse him of being evil, and we might even think about saying 'thank you.'"

"Thank you for the vote of confidence, and I give you my word that I mean no harm to you or your sister," Duncan said solemnly.

"Hey, I didn't say that I thought you weren't evil. I just think we shouldn't accuse you of it until we get some solid evidence," Dawn clarified.

At Duncan's look of chagrin Buffy relented a little and told him, "Nothing personal. Growing up on a Hellmouth makes a girl suspicious of strangers, especially sword toting ones."

"Hellmouth?" Duncan asked.

"Yep, welcome to Sunnydale, home of vampires, werewolves, good and evil witches, demons, and other assorted strangeness, not to mention the highest per capita death rate of anywhere in the western world. Please drive safely, and do try to leave town before the next apocalypse approaches," Buffy said in her best tour guide manner. "We'd give you the guided tour, but Dawnie and me need to get home. It's time to wash that demon right out of our hair. Now, I suggest you get inside where it's safe, don't invite anyone in, and then leave bright and early tomorrow." Then, grabbing Dawn's arm, Buffy started to lead her sister down the path to their house.

"But..." Duncan started to protest to the retreating girls.

Buffy looked back over her shoulder and called, "Bye bye, Mr. MacLeod. Have a safe trip home," as she continued walking away. Dawn looked back once and gave Duncan a 'don't ask me, there's nothing I can do' shrug and then the two girls disappeared around a corner.

"Vampires, demons, and a Hellmouth... Now what do I do?" Duncan muttered to himself, then he turned back the other way and headed toward the hotel.


	2. Chapter 2

****

CHAPTER 6

Joe, Methos, and Legolas met in the hotel lobby. Not having left the hotel, they were all a few minutes early and were waiting for Duncan to arrive. "How're you doing?" Joe asked the elf.

"I feel almost back to normal. A few hours of meditation was just what I needed," Legolas replied.

"That's good to hear, you weren't looking too good earlier today." Then turning toward Methos, "You were the one looking up info on the city today, where should we go eat?" Joe asked.

"There's not a lot to choose from. Besides all the standard fast food places, there's a handful of coffee shops that do sandwiches, your standard greasy spoon diner, and one supposedly fairly decent Italian restaurant," Methos replied.

"Italian it is then, as soon as Mac shows up," Joe said glancing at his watch.

"Actually, I'm glad he's not here just yet," Methos said. "We need a plan for how we're going to do this."

"A plan to do what?" Legolas asked, having missed the intervention discussion, it having taken place during his meditation.

"Adam thinks we should do something to convince a certain skeptical Highlander that there really is something supernatural about this town," Joe explained, careful to not use the name Methos is a public setting.

"And you don't believe Duncan needs to be convinced?" Legolas asked, noting Joe's lack of enthusiasm for Methos's plan.

"People believe what they want to. I don't think there's anything we can do to change Mac's mind. But, if Adam wants to try, I'll go along with it," Joe explained.

"And, why is it so important that Duncan's mind be changed?" the elf quizzed Methos.

"Because he's deceiving himself!" Methos exclaimed, disgusted with his friends for not seeing what was so patently obvious to himself.

"And, if he's happier that way?" Legolas asked.

"He won't be happier when his willful blindness gets him killed," Methos insisted.

"How do you know it will get him killed? Is there anything we know at present which might save his life? What difference could knowing of the supernatural make at this point?" Legolas asked reasonably.

"I don't know, but that doesn't mean it doesn't make a difference. He's just being stubborn. He'll be much better off after he's admitted the truth," Methos said mulishly, not really having an answer for Legolas's last question, but still positive he was right. Then catching the glance that passed between Legolas and Joe, a glanced that said Methos was just as blindly stubborn as Duncan, a thought occurred to the ancient Immortal. "If Duncan wasn't living in denial, he would have taken Legolas's warning of evil seriously. Instead, he dismissed it as superstition," Methos pointed out.

"In that, he was wrong. Elves are not given to superstition," Legolas assented. "However, since my warning was extremely vague in nature, I doubt his ignoring it will make any difference," he added with an elegant shrug.

"Fine then, I'll do it all by myself," Methos said, with a long suffering sigh.

"Now's your chance," Joe said looking over at the front door through which Duncan had just entered the hotel.

Duncan walked over to his friends, looking to be deep in thought and at least slightly worried about something. "Sorry, I'm late," he murmured distractedly.

"Just by a minute or so," Methos dismissed the apology. "We were thinking Italian."

"Hmm?" Duncan asked, not having heard what his friend said.

"Italian? What do you think of Italian?" Methos asked carefully ennunciating each word, but Duncan still wasn't paying attention. "Earth to MacLeod? What's going on? What happened?" Methos said, waving one hand in front of his friends face.

Methos having finally gotten his attention, Duncan answered, "What happened? I'm not sure. I'll tell you as soon as I have it figured it out." Then pulling the recently retrieved sword of Kali from his coat he continued, "Let me just put this in the hotel safe, then we can go eat."

"What do you think that was all about?" Methos asked Joe and Legolas as Duncan made arrangements with the hotel manager.

"I don't know, but I'm dying to find out," Joe said curiously, smelling a Watcher Chronicles entry in the making.

"I'm sure we will find out eventually," Legolas said with a patient smile.

"Don't you have any curiosity?" Methos asked the elf accusingly.

"Of course I do, but I also know how to wait for the right moment," Legolas returned, implying that Methos was being overly impatient.

Duncan rejoined them and they headed toward the restaurant, which was located only a block from the hotel in the opposite direction from the Magic Box.

They were seated in a secluded corner of the restaurant, at a table mostly hidden by a row of potted ferns, and ordered. After the drinks were delivered and the waiter left them alone, Methos started on his self appointed task. "Mac," he said, "while you're sorting out whatever it is that you're sorting out, there's something I'd like to discuss with you."

"What's that?" Duncan asked absently, still deep in thought.

"You remember how, earlier today, you insisted that there was a reasonable explanation for everything that has happened so far?" Methos began.

"Yeah," Duncan answered, wondering where Methos was going with this.

"Well there is a reasonable explanation. This is the Hellmouth, a place of highly concentrated mystical power, most of it evil. That is why Legolas felt ill upon arriving here. That is also why that woman was able to steal your sword and disappear without a trace. Proximity to such a high level of mystical energy boosts any magical powers a person might have. It all fits together," Methos lectured. 

"I know," said Duncan.

"You can try to explain this stuff all sorts of other ways. You can dismiss the old name of the town as the result of an earthquake. You can call Legolas's reaction simple superstition. You can even call that woman's vanishing into thin air an isolated incident that has nothing to do with the rest of the town. But, if you do you'll be wrong."

"I know," Duncan repeated.

Still not catching Duncan's acquiescence and being on a roll, Methos continued, "There have been many, many accounts of strange happenings and mysterious deaths dating back to well before the Spaniards came. Even today, there's an obscenely high death rate for such a quiet little town. There's far too much evidence to dismiss this all as coincidence. If you're being truly reasonable, and not just burying your head in the sand and refusing to admit what you don't want to, you have to admit that it's all connected, connected through the supernatural. That is the only reasonable explanation," Methos concluded.

"Finished?" Duncan asked.

"You're not going to argue with me?" Methos replied, disbelief evident in his tone.

"No. You're right," said Duncan matter of factly.

"I'm right? Of course I'm right. I almost always am," Methos said with a cocky grin.

"I wouldn't go quite that far," Duncan said dryly.

Joe and Legolas had been sitting quietly on the sidelines throughout this exchange, watching the action like tennis spectators, observing each side in turn. At this juncture Legolas decided to join the conversation. "Duncan, perhaps you could tell us what changed your mind since this afternoon?"

"I'd be interested in hearing that myself, along with how you got that sword back," Joe chimed in.

"Yes, do tell," Methos thirded the suggestion.

"Well, getting the sword back was easy enough. I went to the Magic Box and found out that the woman who took my sword was indeed the owner, Anya Jenkins. At first she pretended she didn't take it and had no idea what I was talking about, but when two of her friends, Buffy and Dawn Summers, came in, sword in hand, she admitted to it. They gave me back the sword and told me some bizarre story about borrowing it for a sorority scavenger hunt," Duncan explained.

"A sorority scavenger hunt?" Joe interrupted incredulously.

"That was my reaction," Duncan continued. "Then Buffy repeated the story about borrowing it to kill a demon, as if she really believed it. I thought they were delusional. I had my sword back, and they didn't seem dangerous. I had just about made up my mind to take my sword and leave them to their fantasy world, but as I was leaving I brushed by Dawn and I noticed that she is going to be an Immortal."

"Dawn Summers did you say?" Joe asked, the Watcher in him rubbing his hands together in glee. Discovering a new Immortal was quite a find.

"Don't put in a requisition for a field agent yet," Duncan told Joe. "She couldn't be more than fifteen or sixteen. She won't be an Immortal for a while yet... hopefully."

"Okay, so you meet a teenage pre-immortal who you think has been sucked into some sort of group delusion," Methos said, bringing Duncan back to the point. "I assume you followed them. Then what happened?"

"Why would he follow them?" Legolas asked, not knowing where Methos got that assumption.

"Overblown White Knight complex," Methos explained. "Traditionally, older Immortals train new Immortals, if the new Immortal is fortunate enough to run into a fairly decent Immortal to start with. If they're unlucky, they just get killed. Mac has to insinuate himself into the life of every pre-immortal he meets, so he can be there to insure they get a good mentor when the time comes."

"That sounds an honorable thing to do," Legolas said, contradicting Methos's slightly mocking explanation. 

"Thank you," Duncan said to the elf, giving Methos a look that said, 'see he, agrees with me.' "Actually, I did follow them. That's when things got interesting." Here, Duncan paused for a moment to get everything clear in his mind.

Impatient with the delay Joe prompted, "Interesting how?"

"The girls were walking home and decided to take a short cut through the cemetery," Duncan began.

"A cemetery?" Methos asked one eyebrow raised.

"That's what I thought, but I still haven't gotten to the really strange part," Duncan replied. "I was following them, making sure to keep out of sight, when suddenly they were attacked by vampires."

"Vampires?" Methos asked incredulously.

"I know it sounds crazy, and I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it myself, but that's what they were. They had fangs, glowing yellow eyes, and deformed faces. And, when Buffy, the older of the two girls, put a stake in the leader's heart, he turned to dust," Duncan explained.

"Are you sure you saw, what you think you saw?" Methos asked. "It was dark, you were in a cemetery, sometimes the mind plays tricks..."

"Weren't you just giving me a lecture on not denying the supernatural?" Duncan pointed out.

"Well yeah, but vampires?" Methos said, still disbelieving.

"I know vampires sound pretty far fetched, but not anymore far fetched than say... guys who live forever competing for some mysterious prize in fights to the death," Joe said, suggestively. "If Mac says he saw vampires I believe him, he's not the type to imagine things."

"Vampires, would they be undead blood drinkers who cannot tolerate sunlight?" Legolas asked having a vague recollection of something he over heard the week before--while Methos was watching what he termed a late night creature feature. Legolas found the idea of plays performed so that all could view them in their homes a good one, but found the content uninteresting. For Legolas, television was a novelty, but not something he really cared to watch.

"Pretty much," Methos agreed with Legolas's definition.

"Then there are vampires in Middle-earth, though they are, thankfully, very rare. I see no reason why their presence here is an impossibility," Legolas sided with Duncan.

"Fine then. I believe you. They were vampires," Methos said without much conviction. "Then what happened?"  


"A large group of vampires attacked the girls, so of course I tried to help," Duncan continued his tale.

"Of course," Methos echoed with mock innocence, picking at Duncan's boy scout tendencies.

"Like I said, I went to help, although I don't think they really needed it. Dawn and Buffy were both carrying stakes and they knew what to do with them. Dawn showed good sense and knew how to get out of the way. Buffy was... unbelievable. Her style was rough around the edges, but her speed and strength were amazing. I've never seen anything like it," Duncan said, trying to impress the oddness of what he saw on his friends.

"So, this Buffy knew how to fight," Joe said, not getting what Duncan found so impressive.

"That's an understatement. Judging from the handful I took on, these vampires aren't overly bright, but they have more than enough speed and strength to make up for it. She took on half a dozen of them without so much as batting an eyelash. The things she did shouldn't have been possible. Buffy's rail thin and barely comes up to my shoulder and she was tossing guys two and three times her size across the clearing," Duncan explained.

"That does sound suspicious," Joe agreed.

"Yeah, good balance and training can only do so much, no matter what Hollywood would have us believe," Methos added with a nod. "You think she's not exactly human?"

"There's definitely something strange about her," Duncan replied. "The vampire called her something..." Duncan paused for a moment, trying to remember, "he called her 'Slayer.' On the phone, Anya Jenkins said something about a Slayer too. Does that mean anything to you?"

"He called her the Slayer?" Methos asked excited. "Are you absolutely sure that was what he said?"

"Yeah, that was it," Duncan confirmed. "I guess this means you've heard the term before?"

"It was when I was researching that prophecy about Ahriman and your being the champion," Methos explained. "I kept running across references to another Champion called the Slayer. Supposedly there's one girl in every generation destined to fight the forces of darkness and she's called the Slayer. I didn't give much credit to the stories, a teenage girls with superpowers seemed more like a comic book than something that actually existed. But, if you've seen her..."

"The Slayer," Duncan repeated meditatively. "Destined to fight the forces of darkness, that's a pretty big burden for just one girl."

"So it would seem," Legolas agreed.

"I suppose this means you'll be sticking around to help," Joe observed.

"For a little while at least," Duncan agreed. "Dawn needs someone to keep an eye on her. And, we should probably give her sister a hand while we're at it."

"Yeah, you better start looking for a good location to set up a bar, I think you might just be here awhile," Methos told Joe.

"What you don't think it's foolish for him to stay? No lectures about minding our own business?" Joe asked Methos somewhat surprised. "Duncan has his sword back, I'd think you'd want us to leave as quickly as possible."

"And miss the chance to see a legend in action?" Methos replied. "I can't wait to meet the Slayer. I've read so much about her."

* * * * * *

Dawn and Buffy were sitting in their kitchen combing demon goo out of their hair in preparation for a good scrubbing. "I don't know why you were so mean to him," Dawn complained. "He helped us slay the bad guys even though we swiped his sword, not to mention the fact that he's majorly hot." 

"I admit, he's a real hottie, but we have no idea who he is or what he wants," Buffy protested. "Just because he doesn't have horns or a tail, it doesn't mean he's not evil. He followed us, even though we'd already returned his property. And, what about that sword he was carrying around? Normal people don't take weapons with them wherever they go. And, I really didn't like that look he gave you on the way out of the Magic Box."

"You're one to be complaining about people carrying weapons," Dawn pointed out.

"That's different," said Buffy.

"Umh hm, of course it is," Dawn said with a sarcastic little smirk.

"It is!" Buffy insisted.

"Whatever," Dawn replied. "I still think he's one of the good guys. He was super cool about the sword and he helped us when he didn't have to." 

"Whoever he is, I hope he does like I asked, and leaves town really soon. We're short handed without the rest of the gang. I don't need anything else to worry about." And with that, Buffy worked the last bit of demon loose and headed off to the showers.

* * * * * *

The next morning Buffy and Dawn were at the Magic Box, helping Anya stock shelves. Dawn still had her debt to pay off from shoplifting. Buffy was working to pick up a little extra money before Christmas. Buffy was standing on a step stool, placing items on a high shelf when the bell on the door chimed. Putting the last book in place Buffy said, "Sorry, we're not open yet. The grand reopening is January 6th." Then turning around and finally seeing that it was Duncan MacLeod and friends who had come in, Buffy said, "Oh, it's you, and you brought friends. Now what do you want?"

"Would you believe to help?" Duncan asked.

"With what?" Buffy asked, scrunching her face up in confusion.

"You were attacked by vampires last night and you borrowed my sword to kill a demon," Duncan stated as if what she'd need help with was perfectly obvious.

"So? That's pretty run of the mill for a Hellmouth. Nothing I can't handle," Buffy said with a shrug. Then thinking of what Dawn said in support of Duncan she added, "I appreciate your offer to help, it's really nice and all, but you'll probably just get in the way or get yourself hurt or killed or something."

Just then Anya and Dawn came into the shop from the stock room, "I heard the bell," Anya said. Then spotting Duncan and his friends, she said, "Oh, it's you. I don't suppose you're here to buy something really expensive." Then spotting Legolas, who was hanging to the back of the little group, she made a beeline toward him. Stopping right in front of him, she said, "You're not suppose to be here. How did you get here? Elves are never suppose to leave their dimension, not to this one anyway."

"You know me for an elf?" Legolas asked, surprised. He'd been told there were no elves in this world.

"Well, duh. Elves are unmistakable. You're all bright and glowy. How did you get here?" Anya said.

"I'm not sure precisely. There were some magical stones and there was an accident," Legolas answered.

"The world gates are open again? Someone finally got rid of Sauron then? Maybe I should take a little trip to Middle-earth. I hear it's fabulous," Anya babbled excitedly.

"Excuse me, but huh? Could you try that again with a little more making of the sense?" Buffy asked Anya.

"I wouldn't mind an explanation myself," Methos seconded.

"Sauron was this major bad guy in a dimension just a couple notches up from this one. Anyway he went through an Ascension, destroyed every record in that dimension of how to do it, and sealed himself off from the other dimensions," Anya explained, looking back at Buffy who was now nodding in understanding.

"You know of Sauron?" Legolas asked.

"Not personally, he was way before my time," said Anya, "but, I have heard the stories. He's famous, or infamous, in certain circles. Sealing himself off like that, even at demon get-togethers today you hear demons debating whether he was smart to keep out all the competition or stupid to cut himself off from reinforcements."

Dawn, observing all this from the sidelines suddenly interjected, "I thought elves were suppose to be short?"

"Please Dawn, are you trying to scare me? Tall elves and short elves are two completely different races. Try not to bring up the short ones," Anya commanded.

"Right, no bunnies, midgets, or little elves," Dawn agreed.

"I still don't get it," Methos said. "What's an Ascension?"

"That's when a person turns into a higher demon," Buffy explained briefly. "But, nevermind that. Who are you people and what's all this about?"

"I was just getting to that, Slayer," said someone said, in a heavy New York accent, behind the four men.

Joe, Methos, Legolas, and Duncan looked behind them and made way for the short man in a tacky outfit to come into the shop. Buffy crossed her arms in front of her, tapped her foot impatiently, and said, "Whistler, I should have known. What have the Powers cooked up to torment me with now?"

"This time you caught a break. Lady Luck's sent a little help your way. I'm here to tell you how you'd be foolish not to take her up on her offer," Whistler said defensively.

"Mmh hm," Buffy said unimpressed.

Whistler ignored Buffy's reaction and said, "I think it's time for a few introductions." Pointing at Duncan, who was standing to his immediate right, with a thumb, Whistler began, "The big guy's Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod, an Immortal and a real boy scout. He became a Champion for the light when the demon Ahriman decided he was a good candidate for a grudge match." Ignoring the bug-eyed expressions of shock from Methos, Duncan, and Joe, Whistler continued with the introductions, "The slightly shorter one with the ponytail and the aristocratic nose is Methos, aka Adam Pierson. He's the oldest living Immortal and has a checkered past that makes Angel's look like school boy high jinx, but now he's trying to make up for it." At these revelations, Methos started making strangling noises and went very pale. Not pausing long enough for any comments to be made, Whistler went on, "The pretty blond with the pointy ears is Legolas Greenleaf an elf from Middle-earth. He's not actually suppose to be here, but the Powers use whoever's available. He helped destroy a high level demon, so he should know what he's doing. And, the old guy with a limp is Joe Dawson, MacLeod's Watcher, no relation to the Slayer Watchers. No super powers, but he's got a real way with the blues."

"And now for the home team," Whistler continued the introductions, still not letting anyone get a word in edge-wise. "The lady shop owner is Anyanka, aka Anya Jenkins, a thousand-year-old vengeance demon, specializing in domestic disputes, who's been thinking of switching sides, coming over to the light. The annoying blond is Buffy Summers, the Vampire Slayer of Vampire Slayers. Other than dying a couple times, she's got the best track record on record. Last, but not least, is Buffy's little sister Dawn. She's pretty much your normal teenager, except that if she falls into the wrong hands everlasting hell will descend upon the world and all life as we know it will be destroyed in not just this universe but all universes."

Everyone fell silent for a moment, absorbing what they'd just been told. Then pandemonium broke out. The Sunnydale crew was protesting the revelation of so many details to strangers. The group from Seacouver were doing the same, but they were also demanding to know how Whistler knew all that. With everyone talking at once, nothing was getting accomplished. Finally, realizing that they weren't getting anywhere, Buffy put her fingers in the corners of her mouth and gave a loud whistle. The room immediately quieted down and Buffy said to Whistler, "Thanks for all the intros. Some of them anyway," Buffy tacked on as an afterthought, throwing a glance in Dawn's direction, "but now what are we supposed to do?"

"You're suppose to work together and stop the apocalypse. The one coming up is a big one, you're going to need some help," Whistler answered.

"I don't suppose you could share a few details on this apocalypse?" Buffy asked, not holding out much hope of that happening.

"Sorry Slayer. All I know is that it's going to happen before the New Year and you, with the help of these gentlemen, are suppose to stop it," Whistler said sincerely.

Buffy nodded in understanding, rolled her eyes, and said, "One holiday without the world threatening to come to an end, I knew it was too much to ask." Sighing in resignation she plunked herself down in a chair next to the counter.

Seeing that Buffy was through asking questions, pandemonium broke out again. This time, however, it was of a slightly lower volume. Duncan, Methos, and Joe were the only really vehement voices.

"Sorry kids, I'd stick around and answer all your questions, but I have places to go and people to see," Whistler said backing towards the door. "You're just going to have to work the details out on your own," with that, Whistler stepped through the door. Duncan looked out the door after him, but Whistler had disappeared without a trace. 

****

CHAPTER 7

Duncan returned to the highly irritated and confused group in the shop. In the wake of Whistler's many bombshells and abrupt exit, silence had fallen. "Would someone care to explain what that was all about?" Joe asked to get the ball rolling, "Who's Whistler and how did he know all that stuff?"

Buffy, still sitting in the chair next to the counter, looked at the group of men assessingly. Then, propping her elbows on the counter and resting her chin in her hands, Buffy sighed in resignation. Cocking her head to one side she answered, "Whistler's a balance demon. He works for the Powers. They probably just told him all that stuff."

"The Powers?" Methos asked, arching one eyebrow inquisitively.

"The Powers That Be," Buffy attempted to clarify. "You know God, Buddha, the aliens that speak to you through your little tin foil hat?" Buffy added, taking in her audience's blank expressions.

"So you're saying this Whistler is a messenger of God? And he's also a demon?!" Duncan asked incredulously.

"Uhmm... yeah?" Buffy answered, not really getting what the problem was, these guys were supposedly not exactly normal humans themselves.

"He's a totally different kind of demon from Ahriman," Anya tried to explain, realizing why Duncan was confused. "There are bad demons and not so bad demons and even a few good ones and there are all different levels of power. Ahriman is a really high level demon--or, well, low level 'cause the really powerful demons are called the lower beings--which is why he can interfere with Immortals at all. And, he's so bad that most other demons won't associate with him--watch and admire his work--but they keep a good distance. Whistler's a low level, not so bad demon." 

In an aside to Buffy, Anya explained, "Immortals are completely immune to higher circle demons--you know, the minor, not super variety--our powers don't work on them at all. Demons are suppose to stay out of their contest. Whoever wins is going to play some major role in the end times and interfering is against the rules, it gets the balance out of whack."

"But, if demons and Immortals aren't suppose to mix, how come Whistler wants them to help us?" Dawn asked.

Anya rolled her eyes at the obviousness of the answer, "Ahriman already broke the rules on the side of darkness by attacking Mr. MacLeod. That gives light a free move, to make everything balance out again."

"Okay, let me see if I've got this right," Methos said, pacing around the shop. "Demons are supposed to stay away from Immortals because interfering in the Game is against the rules, which would explain why I never encountered one in 5,000 years."

"What Game?" Buffy interrupted, wondering what kind of 'game' could be so important.

"We'll get to that in a minute," Methos replied irritably. Then he continued with the catalogue of what he'd learned, "Ahriman broke the rules in favor of evil, and now we're breaking the rules again in favor of good to put things right. Whistler works for God--or what have you--and wants us to work together. And, he knows all those things about us because God told him. Is that basically it?"

"You're catching on really fast," Buffy encouraged.

Methos paced back and forth a little more, cursing under his breath and running his hands through his hair in agitation. Then stopping right in front of Buffy he said, "I don't know which is crazier, the story you've just told me, or the fact that I think I believe it." Turning to his friends he asked, "What do you think?"

"Don't look at me," Joe said with a shrug. "I'm only here to observe and record. You'll have to make up your own mind about gods and demons."

"I do not believe I am in a position to judge," Legolas answered. "This is not my home, all seems equally strange to me."

"Those vampires last night were real enough and then there are all the things Whistler knew which he couldn't have known," Duncan said with a shrug. "I think we should help. If everything's on the level, it sounds like we're needed."

"And if it isn't?" Methos asked, always willing to play devil's advocate.

"He did say apocalypse," Duncan pointed out. "How can we not stay and do what we can?"

"I must agree," Legolas interjected, "If there is any chance of a great evil happening which we can prevent, it is our duty to try to stop it."

"As long as we have a consensus," Methos said, unenthusiastically. Then turning to Buffy, a slightly pained smile on his face, he said, "We're in. Now what?"

"Great," Buffy said with just a smidgen of false enthusiasm. Gesturing toward the circular table in the middle of the room, which was very similar to the one which was destroyed, she said, "Grab a book and pull up a chair. We have research to do. Right after you explain that game thing."

"What kind of research? What are we looking for?" asked Methos.

"Well..." Buffy said suddenly realizing how little they had to go on, "I just slayed a Kratha demon that said something really ominous before it died, so it was probably in on whatever this is. Dawn, do you remember exactly what it said?"

Forehead wrinkling in thought, Dawn replied, "Something about it doing its part, I think. And, maybe a death threat?"

"That sounds about right," Buffy agreed. "Also look for anything apocalypty that is scheduled to happen some time soon. A lot of these prophecies have a specific date attached, so that should narrow it down some." Then, as an afterthought, she added, "Or anything really big. The Powers wouldn't have sent help for just your run of the mill apocalypse."

"There are run of the mill apocalypses? How can an apocalypse be run of the mill?" Duncan asked as Dawn handed him some books and he took a seat at the table.

"You'd be surprised," Buffy answered.

"When the world is about to come to an end every other week, you get use to it," Dawn added with a shrug. "Mostly," she tacked on as an afterthought.

"That time with the singing was pretty remarkable," Anya put her two cents in. "Although I'm not sure if that would qualify as an apocalypse, everyone in Sunnydale would have died, but that's not that many people really. I mean on a good day I've... What?!" Anya switched directions midstream as she noted Buffy's rather pointed look and hand gestures towards the Immortals.

"Nothing," Buffy said innocently as everyone turned to look where Anya was staring.

"Singing?" Joe asked curiously, sifting through the stack of books in front of him, looking for one written in English.

"Dancing demon, show tunes in the street, it was a whole thing," Buffy said. "But, we're getting off the subject. You were going to explain about the game?" she reminded.

"Sure," Methos agreed, "and then you can tell us how Dawn can destroy the world."

"Uhmm... You know this apocalypse thing is really important. Maybe we should just get on with the research and do show and tell later, way later, maybe never," Dawn suggested brightly, really not wanting to discuss her role as the key. 

"That sounds like an excellent suggestion," Duncan seconded, not wanting to upset Dawn and trying to keep relations peaceful between Buffy and Methos, they hadn't resorted to open hostilities yet, but for some unknown reason there was a certain underlying tension between the two. 

"This is in Sumerian!" Methos exclaimed holding up a slender volume. "A hundred year old copy of a thousands of years old manuscript and it's just sitting out here in a pile of books," Methos said shaking his head in bewilderment.

Buffy glanced at the book Methos was holding, "Oh, that one," she said unimpressed, "Giles hates that book. He always gets the translations wrong."

"Sumerian is a very complex language," Methos said a little condescendingly, "I'm impressed that your friend can translate any of it."

"I guess being around since before they invented words must come in handy, reading stuff written by a bunch of dead guys," Buffy said airily, subconsciously needling Methos a little. Something about the eldest Immortal rubbed the Slayer the wrong way.

Duncan snorted in amusement and Methos answered dryly, "It does come in handy from time to time."

Legolas had been quietly leafing through a few books while this conversation was going on, "I'm afraid I will not be of much help with the research, I don't recognize any of these languages," he said apologetically.

"It's all right if you don't understand any of it," Anya told him, "you can just flip through, look at the pictures, and pretend like you're doing research. That's what I usually do." 

"I think we have enough actual help that we can do without you trying to look helpful, just this once," Buffy said, somewhat facetiously. 

"Oh good," said Anya, oblivious as always, "I have lots of stocking to do. Legolas, you can help," she ordered taking the elf by the arm and leading him toward the stock room. Then in a slightly lower tone which was still completely audible to the rest of the room, she added, "After we unpack the crucibles, we should have sex. I'm sure you could give me lots and lots of orgasms. Xander used to give me orgasms in the stock room, but now he's gone and I wouldn't take him back if he begged me."

The elf was struck speechless at these revelations. He blinked twice, opened and closed his mouth several times like a dying fish, and blushed a becoming scarlet. "I... You... We..." Legolas made a couple false starts, then Anya pulled him into the stock room and out of sight.

As soon as Legolas and Anya were out of the room, Methos burst out laughing. He had warned Legolas about the kind of attention he'd likely get, but Methos never imagined someone like Anya. Duncan and Joe shared Methos's mirth, although to a lesser extent, seeing the normally unflappable elf unquestionably flapped was somewhat amusing. Up to this point Legolas's most extreme reaction to the modern world was a slight grimace at the thought of modern transportation.

"Is she always so...?" Duncan asked, chuckling slightly and searching for the right word.

"Literal?" Dawn suggested.

"Completely lacking in tact?" Buffy added. At Duncan's nod of agreement, she shrugged and said, "Pretty much."

* * * * * *

After hours of research and some surprisingly good takeout from Mario Wang's Chinese & Pizza, they finally came up with something. Kratha demons were frequently members of the Order of Thalos, a demon priesthood dedicated to resurrecting major powers of evil which had suffered a prophesied death. They believed that once the prophesied death had passed the resurrected demon would be nearly immortal until such time as another prophesy, about a second death, came to light. 

"Now we know that it's these Thalos guys doing a resurrection. But, how do we stop them?" Buffy asked the group which included a nervous looking elf and a very determined vengeance demon, newly returned from the stock room.

"They have to do a ceremony at a certain time and place under very specific conditions," Duncan explained, having found the explanation in a Gaelic text. "All we have to do is stop the ceremony from happening, and they won't get another chance for... how long?" Duncan asked Methos, who was in charge of matching astrological occurrences with historical calendars, having once lived with all the calendars in question.

"Three hundred and sixty-two years," answered Methos, after referring to his notes.

"Sounds like a plan to me," Buffy agreed, "What are the conditions?"

"First off they can only resurrect a demon who's died in the past 9 years, and they'll pick one that was the subject of a prophecy," Duncan said referring to the book in front of him.

"That narrows the field down some," Buffy said with a nod.

"They have to perform the ceremony at the place of the demon's death, at midnight on Thalos's night," Duncan explained the next section.

"Do we know when Thalos's night is?" Dawn asked.

Methos looked at the notes he'd made of ancient calendars and astronomical info off the Internet, reviewed the calculations one more time, and said, "December 29th."

"Are you absolutely sure of the date, we've had date mix up badness before?" Buffy asked.

"Checked it three times, that's the day," Methos confirmed.

"And, finally, the cult has to sacrifice the 'favored child' of the demon in question, 'the son for the father' it says," Duncan explained the last condition.

"Okay, this is the 23rd, so we have some time," Buffy said, relieved. "There's not too many it could be. We can figure this out. And, I can still have my perfect Christmas dinner."

Dawn groaned theatrically. "You're not going to go psycho on us like you did for Thanksgiving a couple years ago?" she asked suspiciously.

"There's nothing wrong with wanting a nice holiday meal," Buffy objected. Then taking notice of their audience and thinking that no one should miss Christmas dinner, she added, "You guys are welcome to come. It's just going to be Anya, Dawn, and me, since our other friends aren't going to be back for a few weeks."

"Yeah, you should come. You can help me keep Buffy from freaking out about not perfect peas," Dawn encouraged.

"I do not freak out about vegetables," Buffy insisted. "Well, not unfreaky vegetables. Those white asparagus are kinda creepy," she added.

"If it's not an imposition, we'd be happy to come," Joe said graciously after gauging the feelings of his friends with a glance.

"No imposition at all, we'll be happy to have you," Buffy answered equally graciously, having warmed to Joe shortly after meeting him. He reminded her of Giles in a weird kind of way, even though he wasn't at all British or tweedy. 

"Perhaps we should focus on trying to figure out who the Order of Thalos is trying to resurrect," Duncan suggested.

"Right, well, like I said, there aren't too many possibilities," said Buffy.

"We should make a list of all the big bads," Dawn said, picking up her heart shaped notebook and matching pen with fluffy pink feathers on the end. "Who's first?"

"The Master," Buffy said with an almost imperceptible shiver. "The bad guys already tried to resurrect him once, they could always try it again."

"Master--repeat offender," Dawn said writing down his name, "Who's next?"

"There are a lot of prophecies about Angelus, but Angel's still alive so he's out. I suppose the next one is the Mayor, but I don't think there are any prophecies about his death. " 

"I'll put the Mayor down as a maybe," said Dawn, "Next?"

"Adam's out since he was more machine than demon and I'm sure there aren't any prophecies. I don't think they could resurrect Glory if they wanted to and the Watcher Council guys said she was beyond prophecy, she's out," Buffy concluded. "What does that leave us with?"

"The Master and maybe the Mayor," Dawn answered. "Are you sure you aren't forgetting anyone?"

"Well it is supposed to be a major player. I suppose it could be the Judge, there's lots of prophecy about him, but he's not so much dead as disassembled. And I've slayed lots of Badass vamps that have prophecies written about them, but no one that caused me too many problems. I can't see Whistler and the Powers interfering for some vamp I didn't even break a nail dusting," Buffy said with a shrug.

"Well, that pretty much cinches the where," Dawn said optimistically. "They both died at the high school."

"Who are the Master and the Mayor?" Legolas asked.

"The Mayor was the town mayor, he turned himself into a giant snake demon at my high school graduation. I blew up the school with him inside. It was the only way we could think of to kill him," Buffy explained matter of factly.

"And the Master?" Joe asked.

"Master vampire, trapped under the Hellmouth for a century or so, got out, I slayed him," Buffy said with forced casualness, examining her manicure.

At Duncan's inquiring look, Dawn elaborated, "He killed Buffy."

"You died?!" Duncan asked, shocked. Buffy was definitely not an Immortal or a pre-Immortal.

"Just for a minute," Buffy said nonchalantly. "I drowned, but my friend Xander gave me CPR and I was fine."

"Now, we know the when, where, and have narrowed down the who. Do we have any idea who the favored child is?" Methos asked.

"The Master seems like our number one suspect. His favorite childe was Darla, but she's already dead and would be a daughter anyway. Then there was Luke, he's dead. And the Anointed one, he kind of disappeared. Maybe he's the one?" Buffy said, thinking aloud.

"No, he's dead too." Dawn said. Then at Buffy's surprised look, Dawn explained, "Spike told me. He put the Anointed One out in the sun when him and Dru first moved into the factory."

"Oh," Buffy said. "I don't know who else it could be then. The Master probably sired a bunch of other vamps, but I can't think of any that were particularly close to him."

"What if it isn't limited to a direct father-son relationship?" Duncan asked. "The words aren't literally father and son. Any kind of parent-child relationship would fit."

Buffy suddenly went pale. "Would grandfather-grandson be close enough?" she asked.

"Yeah," Duncan said with a nod, "that would work."

Buffy swallowed hard and said, "Angel. There're going to try to sacrifice Angel. Anya, can I use the phone in your office? I have to call him."

"Sure," Anya said. Then she added, "It's not long distance is it?" Buffy ignored Anya's completely tactless question and walked into the office, which had formerly been Buffy's weight room but now contained file cabinets and a computer.

"Am I missing something here? Who's Angel, and why is Buffy calling him?" Methos asked.

"Angel's the Master's grandchilde, Darla was his sire, and he's Buffy's ex," Anya explained.

"Wouldn't that make him a vampire? And isn't it the Slayer's job to kill vampires?" Joe asked.

"Yeah, but Angel's different," said Dawn. "He was cursed with a soul. He's good now."

"How can a soul be a curse?" Duncan asked. "Isn't having a soul a good thing?"

"Good for us, most definitely," Anya said emphatically. "Angelus is a raging psychopath without a soul. His favorite hobby was to torment the helpless and innocent till they went insane. He wasn't an evil vampire for very long, well under two centuries, but him and his little family made quite a name for themselves."

"Now that he has a soul, he mostly broods and feels guilty," Dawn added, "even though it was the demon that did all those things, not him."

"Interesting choice of boyfriend for a Slayer," Methos observed.

"Buffy's always been special," Dawn replied vaguely.

"She means her sister has a thing for vampires," Anya clarified. Then, to make sure she wasn't misinterpreted as being critical of the Slayer, Anya added, "Not that there's anything wrong with boffing the undead. As long as we're talking good-looking Master vampires I'm all for it. Sex with minions is just gross, but Buffy'd never do that. She only has sex with hot vamps."

Duncan, Methos, Joe, and Legolas sat in silence through Anya's explanation, completely nonplused by these revelations on Buffy's love life. Dawn, meanwhile, was crossing her fingers, hoping Buffy didn't over hear any of that.

Just then Buffy walked out of the office with a purposeful stride. "I just got off the phone with some of Angel's friends. He's been missing for weeks now," she said in a tightly controlled voice.

"That settles it then," Methos said, glad to be getting back on topic, "They're going to try to resurrect the Master."

Seeing how much strain Buffy was under, Duncan added, "But, we're going to stop them. They're not sacrificing anyone. Remember, they have to keep your friend healthy till the 29th. We have time to rescue him," he reassured.

Buffy took a couple deep breaths, got her panic under control, and said, "You're right. He'll be okay. Knowing Angel, between now and then he might rescue himself and save us all a lot of trouble," she said with a tremulous smile. "In the meantime, I think we should see if we can find these Order of Thalos guys. The more we can take out now, the fewer there will be to perform the ceremony when the time comes."

"Patrol?" Dawn asked enthusiastically.

"Yeah, who want's to come?" Buffy asked the group at large.

"I think I'll stay here, see if I can dig up anything else," Methos said, eyeing a stack of rare books he hadn't gotten to yet and practically drooling.

"I'll go along," Duncan volunteered. "I could use a little exercise."

"I as well," Legolas hurriedly volunteered when he noticed Anya staring at him.

"But Legolas, I thought we could go back to my place and test out my new, Xander-less bed. You took so long placing all those crucibles just so on the shelves, we never got to the orgasms part," Anya complained.

"Sorry Anya, duty comes first," Buffy came to the elf's rescue.

"Wish I could come along, see some of this for myself, but I'm afraid I'd just get in the way," Joe said tapping one false leg with his cane. "I'd better head back to the hotel before it gets dark. I should probably get started on my creatively edited report to the Watcher's Council. I don't think they're ready for Slayers and vampires yet. Do you think they'd buy teenage activists and gang-violence?"

"That's what the Sunnydale Police always put it down as, PCP and gang violence," Buffy answered. "Come on, we'll walk you back to the hotel. We'll pass it on the way to the burnt out remains of Sunnydale High."

****

CHAPTER 8

Buffy, Duncan, Legolas, and Dawn dropped Joe off at the hotel. While they were there Legolas ran upstairs to fetch his bow. Then the group proceeded to the high school. As they walked along, Buffy explained the ins and outs of slaying vampires, with occasional comments from Dawn.

"Vamp Slayage 101," Buffy began. "As far as slaying vamps goes most of the stuff in movies is fairly accurate. You can kill a vamp with a stake to the heart but it has to be wooden. Simulated wood doesn't work," Buffy grimaced, remembering an occasion when a chair leg didn't work like she thought it would. "Decapitation is good, so is direct sunlight or fire. Vamps are highly flammable. Holy water and crosses burn them, but you have to get them to drink it or bath in it to kill one with holy water, so holy stuff's mostly just defensive. Garlic doesn't really do anything, besides offending their sense of smell. And, you can always get away from vamps by going into a private residence they haven't been invited into. They can't come in without an invitation."

"What about the other stuff?" Duncan asked. "Sleeping in coffins? Turning into bats?"

"Myth," answered Buffy. "They sleep any place out of direct sunlight, usually in beds. Dracula's the only one that can turn himself into a bat or mist. There are a few older vamps that can do a hypno thing but mostly they can't mesmerize people. Vampires all have super strength, speed, and senses, but for most of them that's about it."

"Lucky for us most of them are kind of dumb too," Dawn interjected. "I mean, I don't have any super powers or anything and I can dust my fair share."

"There's an actual Dracula?" Duncan asked curiously. "There's a famous story written about a vampire named Dracula," Duncan explained to Legolas, noticing the elf's inquiring expression.

"Yep," Buffy said somewhat proudly. "He came all the way to Sunnydale just to meet me."

Dawn rolled her eyes, having heard the story just under a million times shortly after it happened. "Buffy's famous," she explained to the others, clearly unimpressed. Then as the group turned the corner Dawn spotted the burnt out remains of Sunnydale high. "Look," she said, pointing to a construction company sign in front of the school, "they're going to knock it down and rebuild."

"I thought I saw something about that on the news," Buffy said. "That's just what I need. My sister going to school on the Hellmouth. As if I didn't have enough to worry about already."

"Who would choose this as a place to build a school? Evil is all over this town, but it is strongest here. Children should never come here, much less seek to learn in the midst of such darkness," Legolas protested, a sense of dread building in him as they approached the school.

Buffy shrugged and said, "I wouldn't build a school here."

"We're here. Now what?" Duncan asked.

"Split up and look for clues," suggested Buffy. "If they're doing a major ceremony here next week, they've must have dropped by to check things out, maybe set up an altar or something."

"Why don't Mac and me go that way," Dawn said pointing to the left, "and you and Legolas go that way," she continued gesturing to the right, "and we'll meet around back, where the library used to be."

Buffy was about to object to her sister going off with a near stranger, but then she remembered that the near stranger in question was vouched for by the Powers and he didn't know his way around the school. "Sounds good to me," Buffy agreed, unable to think of an alternate arrangement. "Got a flashlight?"

Dawn pulled a small Hello Kitty flashlight out of her coat pocket, and asked her sister, "What about you?"

"Slayer vision. Moonlight through the holes in the roof should be enough," said Buffy.

"For me as well," added Legolas.

The issue of light being settled, the pairs each set out in their appointed directions.

* * * * * *

"So, how long have you and your sister been fighting vampires and demons?" Duncan asked Dawn as they ducked through a hole in one wall.

Happy to be able to talk about this stuff to someone who wouldn't freak, Dawn answered, "Buffy's been slaying vamps since her freshman year of high school, when she first became the Slayer. That was like," Dawn paused for a minute mentally counting the years, "seven years ago. I've only been helping out for a few months now. Before, Buffy always tried to keep me out of it, saying I was too young. Since now I'm older than she was when she first started, she kind of lost her best excuse." Pointing the flashlight toward a gaping hole in the wall opposite them she said, "That way, we'll go left down what's left of the hallway and circle around the back."

"She just wants to keep you safe," Duncan pointed out as he entered the burnt out hallway where stars could be seen through patches where the roof had disintegrated.

"I know," said Dawn, following just behind Duncan. "But, hello! Hellmouth, sister of the Slayer, there's no way I'm not in danger. I'm way safer going on patrol with Buffy and learning how to defend myself than just staying home and hoping none of the nasties come and get me."

"I can't fault your logic there. Everyone should learn to defend themselves," Duncan agreed, kicking a charred board out of his way and peering into one of the classrooms.

"Really, you think so?" Dawn asked surprised by his ready agreement. "They're always telling me I should stay home where it's safe and that I'm too young to help fight the bad guys. But, I'm not. I can do stuff," she declared punctuating her point with her hands, waving the flashlight about.

"I'm sure you can," Duncan said cautiously, "but just because you can do something doesn't necessarily mean you should." Making out the stubborn expression on Dawn's face through the gloom he realized he was starting to lose her. "Your desire to help save the world is admirable, and I'm not suggesting you should just stay home doing nothing. If I were you, I couldn't not do something," Duncan said hastily, not wanting his potential new student to decide that he was against her. "I only mean that perhaps hunting demons in the middle of the night isn't the best way for you to help. Isn't there something a little less dangerous you could do?"

"You mean like sharpening stakes or reading dusty books?" Dawn said in a tone clearly demonstrating her frustration with that often heard suggestion.

"I'll take that as a no," Duncan surrendered the point with a grin Dawn missed in the dark but could guess at from his tone of voice. "If you're going to be out here hunting vampires you should learn how to fight. Is your sister teaching you any kind of martial arts?" 

Dawn shook the Hello Kitty flashlight, which had picked that moment to dim and flicker. Once the batteries settled back into place and the light became steady again, Dawn answered, "Not really. I mean, I work out with her sometimes and she gives me lots of pointers, about using your head and never underestimating your opponent, but between work and school and slaying we don't have much time for actual training. Mostly it's just learn as we go, but I've picked up a lot just watching."

"Maybe I could help with that while I'm here," Duncan offered, seeing a good way to squeeze in a little preparatory training without spilling the beans about Dawn's eventual immortality.

"Huh?" Dawn asked, still fiddling with the flashlight. "How?"

"I own a dojo, in Seacouver. I teach martial arts classes, professionally," Duncan explained. "This apocalypse is still a week away and I need to do something in the meantime."

"Oh, cool," said Dawn really liking the idea. "That would be great... if it's not too much trouble."

"No trouble at all," Duncan assured her as he stepped over a fallen rafter and extended a hand to help Dawn over. "I like to teach."

Dawn stepped over the rafter, holding on to Duncan for balance. "The library is the first door around the corner," she said pointing the light toward a bend in the hall just ahead.

"We're almost through then? I didn't see any signs of a demon cult, or anyone else for that matter. Did you spot anything?"

"No, but Buffy and Legolas might have found something or they could have set up in the library." Dawn paused for a moment, gave Duncan a speculative look, and said, "Mac, can I ask you something?"

"You can ask," Duncan replied curiously, wondering what the teenager wanted to know.

"Are you single?"

"Uhm... yes," Duncan answered hesitantly, confused by Dawn's question which seemed to come completely out of left field and a little nervous about the motivations behind it. He did not want to have to deal with a teenage crush. "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious," Dawn answered with a shrug and a too innocent grin.

* * * * * *

Buffy and Legolas entered the shell of a school in silence. Without speaking they fell into the pattern of Legolas checking the rooms on the left side of the hallway and Buffy checking the ones on the right. About halfway down the corridor, Buffy tripped on a warped piece of tile but Legolas managed to catch her before she fell.

"Thanks," said Buffy. "If you hadn't caught me I'm sure I would have fallen on something sharp and rusty, either that or picked up the world's largest splinter. And, I so don't need another tetanus shot this year."

"I am always happy to be of service, m'lady," Legolas said, smoothly cutting off Buffy's embarrassed babble.

Buffy cocked her head to one side and considered the elf for a moment. "That's good, the part about being of service," she said, giving him her most brilliant smile. "I mean here you are, with people you don't know in a place you don't want to be, I did notice the pained look when we got near the Hellmouth, risking your life to help save a world that isn't even yours. And, then to top it all off, a vengeance demon starts throwing herself at you. So, thank you," she concluded sincerely.

Legolas didn't really know what to say to this expression of gratitude. In Middle-earth, waging war against evil was assumed to be a responsibility of the elves. He never imagined being shown gratitude simply for doing his duty. Finally he replied, "Do not thank me until I have proven my worth. It remains to be seen how much good I can do."

"Fair enough," Buffy agreed with a shrug. "I suppose they don't have that saying about the thought counting where you're from." Then leading Legolas further down the hall, Buffy said, "While we're on the subject of how much good you can do, how good are you with that bow? Not that I doubt you or anything, it's just that if we run into a nest of vampires, I'd like to know what to expect."

"There are many more accurate archers than I in Mirkwood," Legolas said modestly. "But, I've had much practice in the past few centuries guarding my home against invading goblins and other foul creatures. There aren't many who are faster than I, and speed is the more important skill in the midst of battle. Usually, having more than one arrow in the air at once is of more use than planting an arrow within a hair's breadth of where it was aimed. Vital organs are not such small targets."

"Did you say several centuries of practice?" Buffy asked, surprised.

"Yes, elves are immortal," Legolas explained.

"Oh, good to know. You must be able to get good at all kinds of stuff when you have forever to work on it.... Is that a can't be killed immortal or just a live a really long time immortal?"

"Our physical bodies can be killed just the same as mortal men."

"Well, if you've been fighting goblins and stuff for centuries and haven't died yet I guess that means you're pretty good in a fight," said Buffy. "I don't suppose you could give me a few archery pointers while you're here? I'm pretty good with a crossbow, but Giles never got the hang of the longbow, so I never trained with one. Crossbows are fine, range wise, most vamp slayage is done up close and personal, but they're a bitch to load." 

Legolas and Buffy separated momentarily to look in the rooms on either side of them. When they met back in the hall, Legolas answered, "If you're truly interested in archery, I would be happy to instruct you."

"Truly interested?" Buffy asked. Then answering her own question, she continued, "Anya's throwing herself at you, you think I'm just being sneakier about it. I promise my interest in archery is completely genuine. I mean vampires, wooden arrow through the heart, it's kind of a no brainer."

"Yes, archery does appear to be a useful skill for one of your... calling. I apologize for suspecting otherwise," Legolas said a little sheepishly.

"It's not a problem," Buffy waved aside Legolas's apology. "The cafeteria is up ahead. It's big enough that we should probably both check it out." Buffy pried open one of the cafeteria doors which was hanging crooked on its hinges. Legolas, standing just behind her winced at the squealing sound the door made. "Actually, if I hadn't sworn off men and relationships for--well--ever, I probably would have had a sneaky plot up my sleeve. But, I have come to the conclusion that I'm doomed to never having a healthy happy relationship and trying only leads to pain, tragedy, and assorted forms of badness," Buffy explained matter of factly.

"I have never given love much thought. There was always too much else that needed doing for me to consider marriage or to look for a lady I could spend my life with. But, giving up on love entirely and resigning oneself to being alone, it just doesn't seem right," Legolas protested. "Perhaps you have not met the right person yet," he suggested tentatively, feeling totally out of his depth discussing love with a mortal woman.

Buffy snorted slightly at this suggestion as she looked behind the charred lunch counter and into the kitchens behind, "That's what Dawn says, that I just have to find the right guy. Even if you two are right, there's still my total inability to distinguishing between Mr. Right and Mr. So Hideously Wrong We're Lucky if He Doesn't Torture and Kill My Friends." 

"That would present some difficulty. Does your sister have a solution?" Legolas asked lightly, taking his cue from Buffy's flip attitude toward her predicament.

"Her latest solution seems to be to set me up with Mac. She hasn't said anything, but I can see the signs," Buffy complained.

"I haven't known him long, but I can assure you he won't torture or kill any of your friends," Legolas pointed out with a teasing grin.

"Fantastic, I'll get started on the wedding invitations as soon as I get home," Buffy returned dryly. "The library is the next door down. Duncan and Dawn should already be there. Their side was smaller."

* * * * * *

Back at the Magic Box, Methos was still flipping through rare volumes, looking for anything of interest, while Anya stocked a display case. Anya put the last item, a elaborately carve wooden pipe, in the case. Then she sat down in the seat opposite from Methos and proceeded to stare at him.

Methos kept reading for a couple more pages. Then, the steady gaze of the vengeance demon starting to bother him, he carefully marked his place and put down the book he was reading. "What?!" he barked in an irritable manner.

"Well, I wasn't going to ask, you really have to figure these things out for yourself or they don't count, you know? But, have we met somewhere before? You look really familiar, but I can't figure out where I know you from and it's been bothering me all day," explained Anya. "Were you in Russia during the Bolshevik revolution?"

"No, I've never really cared for Russia. It's too cold."

"How about the West Indies during a slave rebellion?" Anya tried again, picking a warmer location.

"Which one?" Methos asked, "There were quite a few."

"Any of them, there was lots of vengeance to be had in all of them."

"I suppose there would be at that, considering the situation. But, I wasn't there for any of them."

"Then why did you ask me which one?" Anya asked irritably.

"Just fishing for information," Methos answered unapologetically. "If we've run into each other before, it probably wasn't in the midst of war or rebellion. I've been avoiding death and disaster whenever possible for the past millennia or so. Sometimes wars are unavoidable, but I typically try to avoid places that are a war waiting to happen."

"Avoiding death and disaster, that narrows it down some. Death and disaster are sort of a vengeance demon credo. Wait a second, that's it, Death. You're Death!" Anya said excitedly. "Hallie is going to be so jealous."

"Jealous?" Methos asked, "And how do you know I was Death? Or were you around back then?"

"In order: Hallie is my best demon friend and she's going to be jealous because you're famous, not just for the Horseman thing but also because of Cassandra. When a woman tries to call vengeance down on the same man repeatedly for several millennia it gets justice demons talking, even if they can't do anything about it. Hallie'll be nearly as jealous as she was when Laurie met Brad Pitt. Hallie has a thing about celebrities. 

"I know who you are because Vince has an enormous picture of the Four Horsemen sweeping down on a village over his fire place. He's really proud of it because it's the first really good photo he took with his new digital camera. He's a Chronos demon, they travel in time and are usually pretty good with technology--not having originated in the dark ages like most demons I know. But, Vince has always been kind of slow to learn new things. Figuring out the sepia function on his new camera was a red letter day for him. 

"And, I wasn't around back then. I'm just a little over a thousand, not old at all. I don't look old, do I?" Anya asked self consciously.

"You look fine," Methos answered absently. "You don't object to my being one of the Four Horsemen?"

"I'm impressed. What you accomplished without any magical aid, it's really amazing. In my better centuries I've wielded the power of the wish to cause greater pain and suffering--even a higher body count, if you figure it on a number of deaths per event basis, you killed more in the long run of course--but I've never been able to inspire so much terror, not even close," Anya said admiringly.

"You enjoy causing people pain and suffering," Methos asked, shocked by Anya's attitude. Anya was supposedly on the good team.

"Yes, well, I used to. I accidentally lost my powers for awhile and became human again. Since I've returned to the vengeance fold, inflicting hasn't had the kick that it used to. I keep worrying about consequences and thinking that maybe the people I'm wreaking vengeance on don't deserve it. That's why I'm taking a break from vengeance for awhile. I'm trying to figure some stuff out. What about you? Why did you stop being one of the Horsemen?" Anya asked conversationally.

"Pretty much the same reason," Methos said with a shrug. "It wasn't fun anymore and I got to thinking about my victims, started feeling bad for them."

"Do... do you think we can make up for the past, by being good and helping to save the world now?" Anya asked.

"I don't know, but we can try," Methos said with a melancholy smile.

"Right," Anya agreed with a determined expression. "Have you found anything else? To help stop the cult?"

"A few references, but nothing concrete. Maybe with your experience as a demon you can help me sort some of it out?" Methos suggested.

"Maybe, what've you got?" Anya asked moving around the table to sit next to Methos. The two shared a look of understanding, each knowing what it was like to revel in evil then try to do good, then they went to work.

* * * * * *

Buffy and Legolas entered the remnants of the library to find Dawn and Duncan examining a symbol etched into the floor. "What's that?" Buffy asked. "It wasn't there last time I was here."

"I think it's some sort of protection circle," Dawn said. "I think I've seen something like it in Willow and Tara's books."

"It is some type of spell," Legolas added. "That much I am sure of, even with the evil emanating from this place confusing my senses."

"You can sense magic?" Buffy asked the elf.

"Yes, it is a natural elven ability. I have never made a study of magic so I'm afraid the details of the spell are beyond me. The only thing I can tell is that I believe the purpose of the spell is control rather than protection," Legolas explained, a look of intense concentration on his face as he analyzed the impressions he received from the symbol.

"Control of what by whom?" Duncan asked.

"I don't know," replied Legolas. "I only get the feeling that the intent of this spell is control of something. I can't tell any more."

"Well, if this cult is summoning up some great evil I'd think they'd want to control him. I don't think they resurrect their fellow bad guys just out of the goodness--or well, badness--of their hearts," said Buffy. "Maybe it's a spell to make sure the Master is under their control after they resurrect him."

"It could be," Legolas agreed.

"Would they put it in place this far in advance if it were something they could replace on the spur of the moment?" Duncan asked, beginning to get an idea.

"No, they wouldn't," Buffy said an slightly evil grin spreading across her face. "There's probably some complicated--difficult to repeat--mojo involved."

"You guys are thinking that if we can screw up this spell thing now, it'll cause the cult guys problems later," Dawn said. "Do we have any idea how to do that?"

Everyone looked at Legolas. "I'm no magician, so I may be wrong about this, but I think destroying the symbol might work," Legolas suggested.

"I don't have any better ideas," Buffy agreed with a shrug. She picked up a twisted piece of scrap of metal which once was part of the cage where Giles kept his more valuable volumes. Buffy wedged the end which had melted into a sharp edge under a floorboard and began to pry it up. She pried up the first board, then looking around at her companions she said, "A little help here."

Legolas and Duncan cast around for materials to use as crowbars while Dawn held the flashlight. After a minute, the two found adequate tools and set to work. They quickly pulled up all the boards, then Buffy broke one of the boards in two, in order to make sure the cult didn't just put the pieces back as soon as they left. Just as the board splintered down the middle, a sickly green mist rose from the broken board and floated through one of the gaping holes in the ceiling.

"What was that?" asked Duncan.

"A warning and a summons," Legolas said after a moment of thought.

"That doesn't sound good," observed Duncan.

"It's not. It's a warning to the bad guys that their symbol thingy is being destroyed and a summons to come save it," Buffy explained worriedly.

"How'd you know that?" Dawn asked her sister.

"I don't know. I'm just guessing. But, it makes sense considering that my spidey sense just went off the scale. There are vampires all around us and they'll be here soon," said Buffy.

****

CHAPTER 9

"How many vampires qualify as off the scale?" Duncan asked Buffy, as he drew his sword and removed his coat.

"More than fifty. Hopefully, less than a hundred. If they get in we're dead," Buffy answered breaking the central board of the design, then pulling a stake out of the back pocket of her red leather pants. "If we only have to deal with a few at a time, I think we might get out of this alive. Most of them should be coming through the main doors, or what's left of them, but there's a back entrance that needs to be covered too."

"I'll take it," Duncan volunteered.

"Good, me and Legolas will take the front," Buffy said, nodding to Legolas. The elf had his bow in his hands and was calmly waiting for the attack. Turning to Dawn, Buffy continued, "Stay between us. Help when you can. But, don't take them on directly. I don't want you to get killed."

"What? You're not going to make me promise to be careful?" Dawn answered flippantly, trying to cover a case of nerves. Buffy arched an eyebrow warningly at her sister. "I won't do anything stupid," Dawn solemnly promised. "Not dying is way up there on my to do list."

"I can hear them approaching," Legolas interrupted.

"Places everyone!" Buffy ordered as she took her place beside Legolas in front of the library doors. Duncan faced the other direction, alert for vampires trying to sneak in the back way, and Dawn stood just a few steps behind him clutching a stake.

A short moment later the first vamps tried to enter through the main entrance. Legolas let fly one of his arrows, sending the wooden shaft clean through the heart of the first vampire, through the heart of a second, and into the left leg of a third. "Nice shot," Buffy complimented her companion as the first two vampires exploded into piles of dust. 

A split second later the first vampire approaching through the back entrance made its way through the rubble that was all that remained of the stacks. Duncan kicked the vampire in the leg, breaking its knee cap. While the vamp was still kneeling, clutching its broken appendage, Duncan swiftly decapitated it.

Then the trickle of attacking vampires turned into a flood. They entered the front door two and three at a time with another steady stream from the back. Legolas backed up a few paces, to give himself more room to use his bow. Buffy took the opposite approach. She jumped right into the action, laying about herself with kicks and punches and a sharp wooden object.

The three warriors dusted vampire after vampire, with Dawn helping out, but they kept coming. Eventually, Legolas ran out of arrows. In the brief moment it took for him to draw his knives and rejoin the fight, three vampires slipped past Buffy--who was unable to cover the doorway by herself--and into the library.

Legolas ducked a swing by the first one, cut off the second one's hand, and stabbed the third, backing the three up so that they were blocking the doorway. Buffy, seeing that the elf was hard pressed trying to decapitate vampires with weapons unsuited to the task, tossed Legolas her spare stake. Legolas caught the stake and dealt with the three vampires in the blink of an eye.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, Duncan had exchanged his sword for a stake. Although he much preferred using a sword, staking vamps was much faster and speed was vital. There weren't as many vampires coming in the back as there were in front, but it was still too many for a single man to handle. Dawn ended up taking a very active role in the slaying. Duncan would incapacitate one, breaking bones with a well placed kick or punch, while staking another and Dawn would stake the one that was down.

Buffy staked what seemed like the thousandth vampire of the night, but was probably only the twenty-eighth. As the vamp turned to dust, Buffy couldn't help rolling her eyes at the still intact vampire that came into view behind the cloud of dust. "Geez, how many of you guys are there?" she asked as she blocked the attacking vampire's punch. "After seeing all your buddies turn into little piles of dust, why do you keep coming? I mean, you do know what's going to happen? Right?" she continued conversationally as she kicked her current opponent in the stomach and followed with a knee to the face. "Or are all of you just convinced that you're special? Think you have some special immunity to Slayer mojo that none of the others know about? 'Cause if you do, you're wrong," Buffy concluded as she stabbed the vampire in the heart, proving her point.

Legolas dusted another vampire and, when another came to take its place, Legolas said to Buffy, "I thought you said fewer than a hundred. I have taken thirty-seven and you have accounted for similar number, and yet they still come." Legolas staked a short, tubby vampire, and in the short lull between demons, he scooped up two of his arrows which were lying on the floor in front of him.

"I said, hopefully less than a hundred," Buffy corrected. Then dusting her current opponent she added, "thirty-seven? You counted?!"

"Thirty-nine," Legolas replied, having eliminated two more just then, "And, yes. Don't you?"

"Uhmm... no. It must be a guy thing," Buffy said a bit distractedly as she dodged a series of punches from a vamp who'd had some martial arts training.

With Duncan and Dawn things weren't going so well. Duncan had hesitated to hit a small, pretty, female vampire for a second too long and she managed to get his stake out of his hand. A husky male vamp took advantage of Duncan's momentary distraction to get a hold of Dawn. "Mac!" Dawn screamed for help. Snapping out of his chivalric daze, Duncan tossed the girl vamp into a wall, scooped up his fallen stake, and threw it into the husky vampire's heart all in one smooth motion.

"Dawn, you okay?" Duncan asked the teenager.

"Yeah," Dawn answered wiping vampire dust from her eyes. Then looking over Duncan's shoulder, she tossed Duncan her stake and shouted, "Behind you!"

Duncan caught the stake and dusted the girl vamp who'd recovered from her collision with the wall and was creeping up behind him. While all this was going on another vampire, one dressed as a biker, had gotten past Dawn and Duncan.

Biker vamp was sneaking up behind Legolas who was occupied with two other vampires. Buffy, noticing biker vamp and realizing the elf was too busy with the ones in front of him to take care of the one behind, threw her stake at the vampire. Biker vamp collapsed into a pile of dust. Buffy, momentarily left open by her toss, got slammed into a wall.

"Buffy!" Legolas exclaimed as he finished off the vampire directly in front of him and rushed to his fallen comrade's aid.

"I'm fine," Buffy insisted as she jumped back up, "but, we have to get out of here. We can't keep this up much longer and I don't think they're going to stop coming till dawn." 

"How?" Legolas asked, still defending Buffy from the vampires.

"The back entrance and down into the sewers. It's narrow so they can't come at us very many at a time. Willow's parent's house is less than a block from here, there's a manhole a couple yards from their back door, and I've got a key. If we can make it there we'll be safe," Buffy said as she stepped around the elf to take on her fair share.

"You and Duncan clear the way," Legolas agreed. "I'll be the rear guard. The arrows I've been picking up during the fight should serve us well in that position."

"Mac?" Buffy called to the Immortal, "You catch that?"

"Something about us getting out of here," Duncan replied dispatching another vampire. "Lead the way. I'm ready when you are."

Buffy circled around till she was facing the back of the library, then she lead the way over the rubble. Duncan, switching back to his sword, followed a step behind. Dawn was just behind Buffy and Duncan. Legolas was bringing up the rear, bow back in hand and a depleted but no longer empty quiver on his back.

The group made their way out of the library, into the sewers, and into the Rosenberg residence, fighting the whole way. By the time they were safely inside the house, Legolas had used all the arrows he'd picked back up during the battle and was sporting a clawed shoulder, Buffy was limping from a kick to the shin as well as her earlier run in with a wall, Duncan's shirt was a bloody rag because a vampire got in a lucky swipe and clawed his back from neck to hip, and Dawn had hand shaped bruises on her forearms from when that vampire grabbed her.

The four bedraggled refugees from the vampire wars walked gratefully into the Rosenberg's living room where Buffy and Dawn collapsed exhaustedly on the couch. Duncan glanced nervously behind him, where vampires were still pounding on the front door, then he joined the girls on the couch. Legolas perched on the edge of an armchair, careful not to get blood on the upholstery, and started to inspect the scratches on his shoulder which were still oozing blood just a little.

"Is everyone alright?" Buffy asked.

Dawn pushed back the sleeves of her sweater and said, "I'm going to have some ugly bruises, but I'll be alright. At least it's the right time of year for long sleeves."

"These scratches look worse than they are," Legolas added, "They're already starting to close."

"What about you?" Buffy asked, looking over at Duncan. "That red head got in a pretty good swipe."

"Already gone," said Duncan, "But what about you? I noticed you limping as we came in."

"She was thrown into a wall as well," Legolas added.

"Rat," Buffy accused. "Don't worry, I'll be fine. It's nothing Slayer healing won't take care of," she insisted sitting up straight to prove her point. But, being unable to suppress a wince at the pain in her side, she only made her new friends even more concerned.

"Ignoring an injury will only make it worse," Duncan lectured. "Just because 'Slayer healing' can take care of it doesn't mean you shouldn't seek first aid as well. With modern medicine, there's no reason to suffer."

Buffy rolled her eyes and said, "Trust me, if there was anything I could or should do, I'd do it. Nothing's broken. We're just talking about a nasty bruise here, not a big deal. And, if painkillers worked for me at all, I'd be popping the ibuprofen as we speak, but they don't so I'll just have to grin and bear it."

"I saw how hard you hit," Legolas said skeptically, "I thought you'd have broken ribs at best."

"If it'll make you two feel better, see for yourself," Buffy said with a shrug and another wince as she pulled up the hem of her fluffy white sweater a few inches to expose a blackish purple bruise spreading across her right side and the visibly intact ribs underneath the discolored skin.

"It looks days old," Duncan observed.

"It'll be gone by the day after tomorrow," said Buffy, "Something I'm greatly looking forward too. It's not life threatening, but it's not exactly pleasant feeling."

"Perhaps I can help with that," Legolas suggested. "Healing is an elven gift, although I have not had much occasion to use it. With your permission, I believe I can speed your recovery. With evil powers looming so close, you will be needed at full strength."

"Speed away," Buffy gave her permission. "Anything that makes tying my shoes a less painful task for the next couple days gets my personal seal of approval."

Legolas, with a look of intense concentration on his face, knelt in front of Buffy and gently placed his hand over Buffy's bruises, careful not to cause the girl further pain. For a second nothing happened, as Dawn and Duncan looked on curiously. Then the bruise lightened and receded before their very eyes. In seconds it had completely disappeared.

"Cool, it's like watching one of those computer graphic morphing dealies they do for Band-Aid commercials," Dawn exclaimed.

"Yeah, very cool," Buffy seconded stretching and twisting to test out her newly healed side. "Thank you!" she said impulsively leaning forward and planting a kiss to one side of the elf's mouth. "It's like I was never injured. A total recovery in under a minute is way better than I was expecting."

Legolas got up from the floor and retreated back to the armchair. "You're welcome. I have to admit to being somewhat surprised myself. Not even Lord Elrond can so completely heal a wound in mere seconds. I should not have been able to do that," he said in confusion.

"Isn't proximity to a Hellmouth suppose to give supernatural powers a boost?" Duncan asked. "We did just spend the last," here he glanced at his watch, "hour or so fighting directly over the Hellmouth itself."

"And, I already have accelerated healing," Buffy added. "Put the two together and it makes sense."

"Yes, that could explain it," Legolas agreed, his tone of voice clearly conveying that he had some reservations about his new found ability.

"I don't get it," Dawn interjected. "Isn't being able to heal people a good thing? Why do you all sound so worried about it?"

"No power is solely good," Legolas began.

"And if this one comes from the Hellmouth..." Buffy added.

"It probably isn't good," Duncan finished.

"Good things don't come from hell," Dawn said, nodding her understanding.

* * * * * *

Back in the Magic Box, Anya and Methos were still looking through books. "I think I might have found something," Anya said excitedly. "This is a symbol for binding the newly resurrected," she explained, showing Methos an illustration similar to the symbol that was carved into the floor at the high school. "There's some more written about it, but I can't read the language."

"Let me see," Methos said, taking the book from the vengeance demon. "It's in an obscure form of Latin. It's a warning. It says that once the symbol is drawn, it takes on a consciousness of its own and will act to protect itself. If the symbol is damaged a summons will be sent out to every undead creature in the area and they will be compelled to kill those who damaged the symbol until the dawn of the next day."

"We better warn Buffy," said Anya. "If she sees that, the first thing she'll do is destroy it."

* * * * * *

Buffy was restlessly pacing the Rosenberg's living room. She was too tired to fight anymore that night, and she knew it. But, there were still vampires outside, hammering at the doors. Leaving them be went against the grain.

"Buffy, will you please sit down?" Dawn pleaded. "Your pacing is starting to make me dizzy."

"Sorry," Buffy said perching on the arm of the chair Legolas was sitting in. "All those vampires out there have me on edge." Then glancing down at Legolas's clawed shoulder, she said, "Want me to clean those for you. Vampires aren't exactly known for cleanliness and there's no telling where those claws have been. You wouldn't want that to get infected."

Thinking of her recent kiss, Legolas cast about for an excuse not to remove his sweater in front of Buffy. The elf wasn't shy or self-conscious about his body, but he didn't want to encourage yet another girl into throwing herself at him. Noticing Legolas's hesitation, Duncan decided to help him out. "Why don't you let me do that, I've gotten quite a bit of first aid experience over the years," the Immortal offered.

Seeing her sister's growing attachment to the wrong immortal, the one who would be leaving in a couple months, Dawn also lent a hand. "Do you think Willow left any clothes here we could borrow? All the vampire dust in mine is making me itch," Dawn asked her sister.

"She might have," Buffy said scratching just inside the neck of her sweater. "The bathroom's second door on the right; there are wash clothes and towels in the cabinet under the sink and first aid stuff in the medicine chest. Me and Dawn'll be at the end of the hall scavenging for clean clothes," Buffy told Legolas and Duncan as she lead Dawn out of the room and down the hall to Willow's old room.

Half an hour later they were all gathered in the living room again. Duncan and Legolas had rinsed what dried blood they could out of their clothes and there was a bandage on Legolas's shoulder, just visible through the rents in the baggy grey sweater he'd borrowed from Methos. Buffy was attired in a fluffy pink sweater with giraffes on it and a long floral skirt and Dawn was wearing a green jumper with blue patches, ensembles Willow hadn't touched since her high school days.

Then Buffy's cell phone rang. "Hello?" she answered it. "Really... All of them?... Are you sure?... Too late, we're holed up in Willow's parent's house waiting for dawn... We're fine... Okay... See you tomorrow," the rest of the group curiously followed Buffy's side of the conversation for lack of anything else to do. "That was Anya," Buffy explained. "She just called to warn us not to rip up that symbol because it'd summon every vampire in Sunnydale to come kill us."

"Every vampire in Sunnydale just tried to kill us?!" Dawn squeaked in shock.

"Every vampire that isn't a master. They'd be strong enough to resist the summons," Buffy replied. 

"That's something at least, the fact that it's every vampire," Duncan said, looking on the bright side. "I killed forty-six all together, you and Legolas took out at least that many a piece and Dawn probably finished off fifteen or twenty. I'd hate to think there are even more vampires in Sunnydale than the ones we've seen tonight."

"You counted?!" Dawn exclaimed, sounding just like her sister did earlier that night.

"It's a guy thing," Buffy explained in an aside to her sister. "Legolas did too. What was your final total?" she asked him.

"Fifty-one," Legolas answered.

"Okay, so the three of us dusted about fifty apiece," Buffy said moving over to the window and peering out at the vampires still milling about on the front lawn. "Dawn dusted another twenty or so and I'd say there's about sixty vampires still out there. Wow! I mean, wow!" Buffy exclaimed, impressed with their night's work. "On a good night I've taken on twenty or so and a bunch of them get away. There were more than two hundred vampires attacking the library and most of them are dust."

Dawn joined her sister at the window and said, "So those out there are all the vampires left in Sunnydale?"

"Yep, looks like a lot more people are going to survive the holiday season this year and I won't even have to do much patrolling. At least not for a few months, until they rebuild," Buffy said happily. "Actually, if I got rid of that last group it might be a few years before vampires come back to Sunnydale," the Slayer speculated.

"Buffy, you're not going back out there," Dawn ordered.

"You're exhausted and there's no good cover out there; you'd be surrounded in an instant," Duncan added, not wanting Buffy to do anything foolish.

"I'm not going anywhere," Buffy grumbled. "It was just a thought." Then, changing the subject, she asked, "Who's hungry? Mrs. Rosenberg keeps the kitchen fully stocked with non-perishables. Wanna go see if we can find anything edible?"

"I could eat," Dawn agreed.

"Fighting does work up an appetite," Legolas added.

"Let's see what we can find," said Duncan. The four adjourned to the kitchen. Buffy started going through the cabinets and Dawn looked in the pantry for food that didn't sound all organic and similar in flavor to cardboard. "It's nice of your friend's parents to give you the run of their house like this," Duncan observed as he opened drawers, looking for cooking utensils.

"Well, they didn't, not exactly," Buffy answered, still poking through a cabinet.

"What do you mean, not exactly?" Duncan asked suspiciously, remembering how the girls didn't 'exactly' steal his sword. 

"The Rosenberg's are in Zurich for the next three months, and they left Willow in charge of the house. Since Willow had to go to England, she gave me the key to house sit for them. But, don't worry, I'll put everything back just like it was, before they get back. They'll never even know we were here," Buffy explained. "Besides, after the whole burning at the stake thing, I figure I'm owed a little snack food."

"I was wondering why you had a key," Dawn said, coming out of the pantry, box in hand. "That's just so Willow, remembering that someone needed to look after her parent's house, even with everything that was going on. I found pancake mix. Is there any milk?"

"I think I saw some condensed," Buffy said turning back to the cabinets. "We've got milk and syrup. Check the fridge. I think they keep some of that spray butter stuff that lasts forever in there."

"Burning at the stake?" Duncan asked curiously, as he took out a pan and looked for a spatula.

"Long story, there was this demon, people started acting wacky, and me and Willow ended up tied to stakes with our mothers holding torches," Buffy explained. "I don't really hold it against Mrs. Rosenberg, demon causing it and all, but she could've at least said she was sorry or something. She didn't even give Willow a sorry I tried to kill you shopping trip."

"We've got butter," Dawn interrupted, getting the bottle out of the fridge.

"You girls lead very strange lives, you do realize that? Don't you?" Duncan said shaking his head at the thought of a 'sorry I tried to kill you shopping trip.'

"Stranger than living forever?" Dawn asked.

Duncan and Legolas exchanged a glance, then Duncan answered for the both of them, "Much stranger."

Duncan mixed up the batter and managed to make some fairly decent pancakes, even with the less than ideal ingredients. Then the four of them passed a strangely pleasant evening as they waited for dawn, eating breakfast food in a someone else's kitchen and exchanging friendly banter as vampires pounded on the doors and windows wanting to get in to kill them all.

****

CHAPTER 10

Early afternoon, the next day...

Buffy--half asleep--was feeling around on the floor next to her bed looking for the ringing cordless phone. Eyes still closed, she located the phone just under the bed skirt. Pushing the talk button, she answered, "Hello," as she tried to suppress a yawn.

"Buffy, I woke you didn't I? I got the times wrong. I can call back later," Willow said apologetically.

Looking blearily at her alarm clock, Buffy ran a hand through her hair and sat up. "No, you got the time right, I was just up late, slaying. Didn't get home till after dawn," Buffy said before Willow could hang up. Finally starting to wake up and get her bearings, Buffy asked, "So how's England? Are you... feeling better?"

"If you mean am I feeling all black-eyed and evil--I'm not. I'm feeling a lot less crazy and tuned into the dark side which is good. But..." Willow trailed off.

"But, Tara's still gone and it still hurts," Buffy finished sympathetically.

"Yeah... it does," Willow answered, her voice cracking. "It hurts so much."

"I'm so sorry, but it'll get better," Buffy encouraged.

"I don't see how it can get worse," Willow agreed weakly. "Sometimes... sometimes I think I deserve to feel this way. That it's my punishment for what I did," she added in a small, frightened voice.

"No, don't say that. You don't deserve to be punished. You know that," Buffy insisted.

"But, I came close to destroying the entire world," Willow protested.

"But, you didn't. Close doesn't count," Buffy replied.

"I didn't just come close with Warren. I killed him. Not just that, I skinned him alive and enjoyed it. Buffy, I tortured a man and had fun doing it," Willow said in self loathing.

"Warren had just killed Tara. You were in pain and not in your right mind. And, it's not like Warren was innocent," Buffy tried to excuse her friend.

"He was bad, but he didn't deserve that. No one deserves that," Willow said with conviction.

"Maybe he didn't deserve it," Buffy agreed, "But, he was definitely asking for it. What you did to Warren was a mistake, I'll give you that. But, it doesn't make you a bad person. Will, you're a good person. You were just pushed too far and made some bad decisions. That's only human. No one's perfect."

"That's what Xander says," Willow admitted, "That I just made a mistake and I need to forgive myself."

"See, if me and Xander both say it, it must be true," Buffy said, a grin apparent in her voice.

"I suppose," Willow agreed with a skeptical little laugh, "I'd feel a lot better about it if Giles said it too, him being wise--have all the answers--guy."

"Giles doesn't say you should forgive yourself?" Buffy asked, surprised.

"He says forgiveness is up to me and that he can't tell me how to feel. Then he gives me a lecture about learning balance and control of magic because it's part of me now and I can't get rid of it," Willow said, frustrated by Giles's attitude. "Why can't he just tell me how I should feel? I'm fragile. I need guidance," she grumbled.

Buffy couldn't contain a laugh at this, "I think that's one of those being a grown up things. You know, thinking for yourself and all that other hard stuff."

"I never said I wanted to be a grown up," Willow objected.

"Me neither," Buffy sympathized. "I think we were drafted when we weren't looking."

"Stupid grown up draft, there should be a law. By the way, before I forget, Xander wanted me to tell you that your Christmas gifts are in the mail. He kind of forgot to mail them until your packages arrived and reminded him, but we are thinking of you and Dawn and Anya." 

"So noted. Now I won't have to take him off my Christmas list. So, speaking of magic," Buffy changed the subject after a brief pause, "You're learning how to do magic stuff without channeling the dark side of the force?"

"We were speaking of magic?" Willow asked confused.

"Well, you did mention it earlier," Buffy pointed out.

"In that case, yeah, I'm learning lots of stuff about balance, control, and consequences. All the stuff a good witch needs to know to handle magic responsibly. Before, I was always so caught up in how much I could do to really stop and consider if I should do it. Now, I'm learning how it's all connected and how every choice I make has all sorts of ramifications I have to consider," Willow explained, her excitement over studying magic coming through.

"And this is good. Right?" Buffy asked, not really knowing much about magic.

"It's great. I'm learning so much and Giles's friends here are amazing. I finally feel like I'm starting to control my powers instead of letting them control me," Willow gushed. Then with a return of the guilt feelings, she said, "It's just..." 

"Just what?" Buffy asked.

"I feel kind of guilty. It's like being sent to magic camp for the summer, in no way a punishment. I mean after what I did..." Willow trailed off.

"We've covered that already. I thought we were clear. You don't deserve to be punished," Buffy said emphatically.

"I'll try to remember that," Willow agreed halfheartedly.

"How's Xander? What's he been up to while you're at magic class?" Buffy changed the subject again.

"He's been building shelves for Giles. Giles had books in crates and stacked all over the floor when we got here. Now they're mostly in bookcases. And, the rest of the time he flirts with every pretty girl he can find. I don't think he's over Anya yet, but he's doing his best to pretend like he is," Willow said.

"Anya's the same way. She misses Xander, but she won't admit it. It's good to hear he's keeping busy and that Giles's books are getting a place to live. That's one way for Xander to pay his way, free carpentry. Giles couldn't be too excited about having not one but two Scoobies living with him. He loves us, but that doesn't mean he wants us moving in, too much pop-culture and not-tweed."

"When I was starting to feel a little better and I suggested that Xander go back to Sunnydale to help you with the vampires and stuff, Giles said he should stay another week or two. There still wasn't enough shelf space for his complete work's of Shakespeare," Willow said with a giggle.

"At least Giles is getting a little slave labor out of this deal. Xander should stay as long as you, or Giles, needs him. We're good here," said Buffy.

"Are you sure?" Willow asked, "I don't want to leave you short handed. You said you didn't get in till dawn, that's not normal for you. Are you positive you don't need any help? You're not just trying to keep me from worrying? I'm not really up to fighting off any apocalypses, but I can do without Xander if you need him."

"No, we've got it covered, with a little help from the Powers."

"The Powers? What'd they do?" Willow asked curiously.

"They sent reinforcements. There's something going on around here, nothing really big," Buffy hastened to reassure, she really didn't want Willow worrying, "they're not even trying to open the Hellmouth. An evil cult's just trying to bring back some big bad I've already killed," Buffy explained, seriously downplaying the situation. "Anyway, the Powers, knowing how much I depend on my best friends, sent along some help."

"What kind of help?"

"There are these two guys that are Immortals, with a capital 'I,' I'm not really sure what their deal is, but they live a really long time and aren't demons. One of them, Duncan, seems like a pretty nice guy, he's also some kind of chosen hero who fought some major demon. The other one, Methos, he's five thousand years old and really, really irritating, but he does know how to do research, which is helpful. I don't think there's a language he doesn't know.

"Then there's an elf, Legolas. He's from another dimension and he's really, really hot. He's also amazing with a longbow and said he'd give me lessons. And, Joe Dawson, he's human, and Duncan's Watcher, but not like Giles is my Watcher. Unless there's another one of those deep dark secrets I don't know about, there are two completely unrelated kinds of Watchers. The ones that watch Slayers and another kind that watch Immortals, because Joe'd never heard of a Slayer. Score two for the unimaginative. You'd think at least one of them would have come up with a better name. Anyway, Joe seems pretty cool. He kind of reminds me of Giles, he got too involved with his 'subject' too. I mean Duncan isn't even suppose to know the Immortal Watchers exist but now they're friends," Buffy explained in a rush.

"Okay, they sent two not demon Immortals, an elf from another dimension, and another kind of Watcher," Willow said, trying to keep track. "Do you trust these guys?"

"Well, yeah," Buffy said, a little noncommittal. "I mean I wouldn't hand Dawn to them and tell them all about the Key, but when Whistler comes and gives you a message directly from the Powers to trust these guys, you kind of have to give them the benefit of the doubt. And, when I took Legolas and Duncan on patrol with me and Dawn last night, they were great. I broke this symbol thingy that summoned all the vamps in Sunnydale. The four of us dusted nearly two hundred vampires together. Slaying together creates sort of a bond."

"Nearly two hundred vampires?!" Willow exclaimed in shock. "What were you thinking?"

"Mostly, dodge left, stake right, keep them from getting behind me," Buffy said defensively. "I didn't know I was summoning vampires when I summoned them. Once they were already there, I was mostly just thinking about staying alive."

"Obviously you survived, unless I'm talking to a ghost," Willow paused a beat and continued, "I'm not talking to a ghost, am I?"

"Nope, not a ghost. I'm alive and well. Besides the trying not to die part it was way cool. We kicked some major vampire ass. And, Legolas and Duncan were great. I'm going to have to get them to show me a few moves before they go. Duncan had this katana and he... well you probably don't care about that, but I was impressed. Anyway, I got a nasty bruise in the fight, but Legolas with his super elf healing powers healed it right up, good as new. Aside from a few bruises and scratches we're all fine," Buffy insisted. "There's absolutely nothing for you to worry about."

"Except?" Willow asked suspiciously.

"Except what?" Buffy asked innocently.

"Buffy, I distinctly heard an 'except' tacked on to that last sentence. What aren't you telling me?" Willow pressed.

"I think I'm hearing resolve face," Buffy stalled. "Are you giving the phone resolve face?"

"You betcha missy," Willow agreed, "Now stop stalling and tell me what happened."

"Well, me and Dawn and our new friends are all fine, but we had to hide in your parent's house, to wait for dawn, and I don't think your mother's garden is ever going to be the same," Buffy admitted.

"How not the same is it ever going to be?" Willow asked with a groan.

Buffy winced and said, "Sixty or seventy vampires milling around on the lawn can cause a lot of damage. All the bushes were flattened. And, I think you might need new... what do you call it? Those chunks of grass carpet sort of stuff."

Willow sighed in resignation and said, "Don't worry about it. I'm sure I can think of some explanation that makes it not my fault before my parents come home. The important thing is that you're okay. Besides, we're talking about Sunnydale, they have to be use to weird stuff happening by now."

"Thanks Will, for understanding. If it were spring I'd just pick up some bushes and stuff at Wal-mart and replant, but since it's December..."

"What are a few begonias in the scheme of things?" Willow shrugged aside the issue. "Now tell me about this really hot elf with a bow. He doesn't look like one of Santa's little helpers does he? I don't have anything against short, but that would be kind of weird."

"Actually he's really tall with long blond hair I'm itching to run my fingers through and he has the most beautiful eyes. Sometimes they look blue or grey and other times they're really dark, almost black. I've heard of people's eyes changing color with their mood before, but this is the first time I've seen it. And, all that archery has been doing wonderful things. Nicely built is an understatement. Perfect is more like it," Buffy drooled over the elf.

"Sounds yummy," Willow encouraged.

"Very, very yummy," Buffy agreed.

"So, have there been any sparks?"

"No, absolutely no sparkage," Buffy grumbled. "We hit if off right from the start in a friendshippy kind of way, but I don't think he believes in interspecies dating. Anya threw herself at him and he couldn't run fast enough. At least, having sworn off men, I saved myself that embarrassment."

"Just because you've had a couple bad relationships is no reason to give up. Maybe, you could convince him to give interspecies dating a try," Willow suggested wanting her best friend to be happy. 

"I don't think that's such a good idea," Buffy nixed the plan. "Besides, I think he's planning to go back to his own dimension soon anyway."

"Long distance relationships rarely work, interdimensional must be nearly impossible," Willow agreed. "But, that doesn't mean you shouldn't try to find someone else."

"Why is everyone so concerned with my love life? Legolas told me nearly the same thing last night and I think Dawn is trying to set me up with Duncan," Buffy complained, exasperated with everyone putting their two cents in on her love life.

"Duncan? What's he like?" Willow asked, intrigued by Dawn's endorsement.

"Uhh, I don't really know," Buffy said. "I mean, I haven't talked to him much. He seems like a good guy. He's good in a fight and he volunteered to help with the bad guys even though we kind of swiped his sword. And, he is good looking. If I didn't have Legolas for comparison, I'd probably be drooling. He's pretty much the stereotype of tall, dark, and handsome. And, he's good with Dawn, treats her like a little sister, but doesn't baby her and get on her nerves."

"And this doesn't sound like a good dating candidate?" Willow asked facetiously.

"I didn't say that," Buffy protested. "I just don't want to date anyone right now. Besides, I think he's kind of old for me."

"Old for you? How old is that?" Willow asked incredulously.

"I think Whistler said about four hundred. I know, I know Angel and Spike aren't exactly teenagers, but they don't act centuries old. Duncan, he doesn't act like he's ancient or anything, but he's a grown up. Other than a fondness for sharp objects and occasionally saving the world, I don't think we have a lot in common," Buffy explained.

"Well, common interests are important," Willow conceded, then she paused for a moment in thought. "So you have more in common with the elf?"

"No, but I'm dazzled by his beauty. He could be dumb as rocks and I'd still be interested. Some things don't have much to do with shared interests," Buffy said wickedly.

"You're bad," Willow accused. "Treating that poor elf like he was nothing more than a sex object."

"That's Anya. I'm interested in him for his archery too, it's not just about sex."

"I'd have something to say about that, but Giles and Xander just came in the room. I don't think they want to hear. Wanna talk to Xander?" Willow asked.

"Yeah, put him on," Buffy agreed.

"Hey, Buffster, what's up in Sunnydale?" Xander said.

"Same as usual, except for a few visitors who've come to help. Willow can fill you in later, no sense running up the phone bill to go over the same stuff twice," Buffy said.

"But everything's okay?" Xander asked.

"Yeah, fine. How are things there? Willow was sounding more like Willow. Is she getting better?" Buffy asked, knowing Xander would give her the details.

Xander checked to make sure Willow'd left the room then answered, "Yeah, she's getting there. She has her bad days and there's still a lot of guilt, but she's getting back to normal. No more evil, scary, Willow."

"That's good to hear. Any idea when you two will be coming back?"

"I've got a job all lined up, we're breaking ground just after New Years, so I'll be back for that. Willow's probably going to stay a little longer, study some more with the coven, but I know she's signed up for the spring term at school so she can't stay too much longer."

"I can't see Will missing more than a week or two of school," Buffy agreed. "So you two will be back next month? Do you think Will's ready?"

"Yeah, she's strong. She's real nervous about coming back, but she'll be okay," Xander said confidently.

"That's good. I can't wait to see you guys. Dawn misses you too. Actually, she's probably going to be pissed that she missed talking to you two."

"Where's Dawn off to? Janice's?"

"Actually, she's here, asleep, but I'm not waking her up. She kicks," Buffy explained.

"The brave Slayer is afraid of waking up her grumpy little sister?" Xander asked with a laugh.

"Darn tootin' I am," Buffy agreed. "I'm only willing to chance her wrath for really important stuff, like school. She can talk to you next time."

"We should probably stop using up Willow's calling card. You and Dawn take care and I'll see you next week," said Xander.

"You take care too, Xander. And, tell Giles I said hi and that I'm expecting a really big gift."

"Will do. Have a good Christmas Buff."

"Merry Christmas to you too," Buffy said, then she turned off the phone, returned it to the cradle on her bed side table which she'd knocked it out of, fumbling for the phone mostly asleep. Then Buffy stretched and headed for the showers.

* * * * * *

At the hotel in one corner of a mostly vacant restaurant, Duncan was filling Joe in on the events of last night, over lunch. After Duncan finished the tale, Joe gave a low whistle, and said, "Sounds like it was a good thing you were there. Those girls probably wouldn't have survived without help."

"I don't know, they might have come up with something. They're both very resourceful. But, I'm happy I could help. They're just kids, they shouldn't have to face hordes of soulless demons on their own, even if they are use to it," Duncan replied.

"Used to hordes of soulless demons, that's a new one on me," Joe said shaking his head in bemusement. "How can anyone get used to that?"

"I don't know, and I don't think I want to know," Duncan replied. "I can't even imagine what Buffy and Dawn have been through the past few years. Whatever it was, it must have been bad. Buffy knew what was coming, she thought she was going to die saving her sister, I could see it in her eyes, but she didn't even flinch. Most of the career soldiers I've known aren't that steady in the face of death." 

"You said she underestimated the numbers by half," Joe pointed out. "Maybe she didn't realize how bad it was going to be."

"No, I think she knew and was just underestimating to keep the rest of us from panicking. Buffy's not much of a liar, I didn't have time to call her on it then, but I knew she was holding something back. The fact that all of us came out relatively unscathed is nothing short of a miracle. If any one of us was a little less able in a fight they would have gotten into the room, surrounded us, and we'd all be dead."

"I guess this means I should start scouting around for locations," said Joe.

"Locations?" Duncan asked.

"For my new club. I don't suppose you're going to leave Buffy and Dawn to fend for themselves, and I need something to do between chronicle entries," Joe said with a shrug. "Besides, there doesn't seem to be a decent bar anywhere in this town. It looks like I'm needed."

"Don't start packing just yet," Duncan said with a grin. "We've only been here three days. I haven't made up my mind about moving here yet."

Changing the subject, Joe asked, "You said Dawn was going to be Immortal one day? You still sure of that?"

"Yes. Why do you ask?"

"I was just thinking about what Whistler said about Dawn possibly destroying everything if she fell into the wrong hands. Do you think she could be The One, the one who'll win?" Joe asked.

"I don't think that's it," Duncan said, brow wrinkled in thought. "Dawn's smart and fast, and I can tell she'll be hard to beat once she's had some training. If she can avoid the toughest of the head hunters till she's gained some experience, she'll have at least a chance at The Prize. But, if the Game's rigged and the winner's already determined what's the point? Whatever this is, it doesn't sound like the Prize either. Someone being able to use you to end the world isn't something you'd fight for."

"What do you think it means then? What's so special about Dawn?" Joe asked curiously.

"I don't know," Duncan said, "I think it might have something to do with her sister."

"But, since Buffy's not really her sister, not blood sisters..." Joe trailed off.

"I know Immortals don't have families, as a rule, but I think Buffy and Dawn may actually be sisters. I over heard a conversation about Dawn being like their mother and I got the impression that they were talking about inherited traits, as if they really are blood relatives. It could just be that they don't know Dawn's adopted, and that's probably it, but... there's something more there that I just can't put my finger on. Could Buffy being the Slayer have something to do with it? She has super powers. Her being related to an Immortal isn't that far of a stretch, all things considered."

"I don't know. I read through some of the stuff Methos dug up on Slayers last night, but there was no mention of Immortals. Maybe Methos knows more?" Joe suggested shrugging. Then after a short pause to really consider the possibilities, he continued, "An Immortal with family," he said intrigued. "That's never been seen before. I'll get my sources digging for information. See if they can turn up an adoption record or a birth certificate for Dawn."

"I don't really feel right about digging into their background without their permission," Duncan protested. "It seems like an invasion of privacy. They're not the bad guys here."

"I'm not going to ask for their school records or any personal details, only information that's part of public record. I'd ask them myself, except that'd make them wonder why I wanted to know," Joe argued.

"You're just going to limit it to checking for a birth certificate. No looking into Dawn's personal life. And, no checking on her sister," Duncan ordered.

"No looking into Dawn or Buffy's personal lives," Joe agreed. "Besides, they're just kids. How much personal life could they have to check up on?" he asked rhetorically.


	3. Chapter 3

****

CHAPTER 11

"What's the plan for this afternoon?" Joe asked Duncan as they left the hotel restaurant and entered the lobby.

"I think Methos is heading back to the Magic Box to get another look at those books. We were barely able to pull him away when we dropped by just after dawn. I told Dawn I'd teach her some self defense this afternoon, so I'm heading over to their house. She said Buffy cleared out their basement to workout in. And, I don't know what Legolas plans for today, other than avoiding Anya," Duncan catalogued.

"I think he's already at the girls' house," Joe replied. "I ran into him this morning and he said something about Buffy and a longbow. We'll probably see him there."

"We?" Duncan asked curiously.

"Buffy and Legolas must be through with the archery lessons by now, he left a couple hours ago," Joe reasoned. "She was telling me about a secret military operation and a Frankenstein monster when you found that reference to the cult of Thalos. I'm hoping I can persuade her to finish the story."

"First Dracula and now Frankenstein," Duncan said shaking his head slightly in wonder. "It's like the midnight creature feature around here."

"Dracula? There's a Dracula?" Joe asked surprised.

"According to Buffy and Dawn," Duncan said with a shrug.

"Don't let me forget to ask about that one too."

* * * * * *

Per Legolas's instructions, Buffy had retrieved the target normally kept in the basement for stake tossing practice and set it up at the far end of the yard. Then she attentively listened to Legolas's in-depth description of all things regarding archery, from bow manufacture to the best stance for a quick aim--for the first hour at least. Then Buffy's eyes started to glaze over. Legolas--totally immersed in his most favorite topic and completely oblivious to Buffy's reaction--nattered on about the finer points of archery for another half hour.

Buffy, unable to take anymore, finally interjected, "You know, that's all really fascinating, great info, good to know and all, but maybe we could skip to the hands on portion of the lesson. I've always been the jump right in and get started type when it comes to learning stuff."

"I suppose we could do that," Legolas said reluctantly. As much as he liked introducing all and sundry to his favorite sport/pass-time/way-of-life, the thought of putting his 'baby'--his Lothlorien bow--in the hands of a rank amateur was slightly worrisome. "But, you must understand. Archery is an art. It takes years simply to learn the proper method of drawing a longbow. Don't be disappointed if your efforts don't yield swift success," Legolas cautioned as he slowly handed over his beloved weapon.

"Cool," Buffy said, getting her first up-close look at the bow. "Arrow?" she asked holding out one hand for one.

Legolas took one out of his sorely depleted quiver and handed it to Buffy. Noting that he had a grand total of five arrows left, Legolas made a mental note to spend the next few days replenishing his stock.

Keeping in mind everything Legolas had said during his interminable lecture, Buffy fit the arrow to the bowstring, pulled back, and let the arrow fly--all in one smooth motion. A split second later the arrow thwacked home in the target, four inches to the left of center. Buffy wrinkled her nose in consternation, and conceded, "You're right, getting the hang of this is going to take some time."

"Are you sure you've never used a longbow before?" Legolas quizzed Buffy.

"Uh... no. Why?" Buffy asked puzzled, they'd been over that already.

"For a first effort, that was amazing," Legolas said in wonder, mystical duties and a little hand to hand combat predisposed the elf to respect Buffy as a warrior. But, being a prodigy with a bow and arrow, that really meant something. "I've never seen anyone learn so fast, not even the hunters of Mirkwood--the best archers in Middle-earth."

"But I missed," Buffy protested, not getting what the big deal was.

"You hit the target," Legolas pointed out.

"And that's unusual for a first time out?" Buffy asked.

"Extremely," Legolas confirmed.

"Slayer powers," Buffy shrugged the matter aside, "go figure."

* * * * * *

Duncan and Joe took the rental to the Summer's residence which was located across town, not a great distance away, but farther than Joe wanted to walk if he didn't have to. They parked in the vacant drive way and went up the front steps and on to the wide porch. Looking around at the porch swing and the not yet painted woodwork on the windows, Joe observed, "Nice place, seems like there should be a bunch of kids living here."

"There are, in a way," Duncan explained as he rang the door bell. "Dawn told me about it when we walked them home this morning. After their mom died last year, from an aneurysm, their friend Willow moved in along with another girl named Tara. But, Tara was shot and killed a couple months ago, right in front of Willow. Willow had some sort of breakdown and went away to recover."

"Damn... that's hard. Losing their mother and a friend like that," Joe said sympathetically.

"Yeah, the more I find out about what those girls have been going through the worse it gets," Duncan agreed.

Then sounds started coming from behind the front door. Dawn opened the door and said, "Hi guys," stepping back out of the way, "I can't actually invite you in, even though--duh, sunlight--I know you're not vamps. We have a sort of no inviting anyone in, ever, rule. Don't want to start any bad habits."

"That's understandable," Duncan said, taking off his second favorite duster--his first favorite was lost the night before during the fight with the vampires--and hanging it on the coat rack next to the door. "Is Legolas here?"

"Yeah, he's in the kitchen watching Buffy bake, or try to bake. Judging from her past lack of success, it's kind of up in the air--what she's actually doing," Dawn explained.

"I thought he came over to give archery lessons?" Duncan said.

"They did that already," Dawn said with a shrug. "The being a quick study with any kind of weapon that comes with the Slayer package wasn't what he was expecting. He was kind of surprised that she learned everything he could teach her in a couple hours and just needs practice to be a master archer. Buffy's telling him about Anya and how he needs to be firm with her--while he recovers from archery shock."

"After she finishes dolling out advise, do you think your sister might be in a storytelling mood?" Joe asked hopefully. "I hear she's met Dracula."

"She'll be more than happy to tell you all about it," Dawn said, rolling her eyes. "After she staked him, you'd think she'd be less impressed. But, noooo. Mention Dracula and she has to go on and on about how he's heard of her."

"Heard the story too many times I take it," Duncan said with a grin. "I think you can miss it this time around. Show me to the basement and we can get started."

"Cool," Dawn said, excited by the prospect of learning some actual fighting techniques.

Dawn and Duncan went down to the basement to begin Dawn's training and Joe joined Buffy and Legolas in the kitchen, hoping to finagle a story out of the Slayer, or possibly one from the elf.

* * * * * *

"What're you making?" Joe asked as he sat down beside Legolas at the kitchen counter.

"Carrot cake," Buffy replied. "It was my mom's favorite," she said with a wistful smile.

"It must be especially hard this time of year," Joe said sympathetically.

"Yeah," Buffy agreed. "Last Christmas, there was so much going on, it didn't really get a chance to hit me. I barely noticed Christmas had come and gone. This year, it's harder."

"You didn't notice Christmas?" Joe asked surprised. "There must have been a lot going on."

"Hell god trying to end the world," Buffy said, as she peeled carrots and put them in the food processor. "It was a whole big thing."

"A god?!" exclaimed Legolas. "How could a god try to destroy a world, his own creation?"

"Glory didn't create this world," Buffy attempted to explain. "She was god of a hell dimension and was banished here by some of her fellow gods. She didn't really care one way or another about this dimension. She just wanted to get home. If that meant killing everything in this universe, she didn't have a problem with that."

"If she was a god, how could you fight her?" Joe asked.

"With a lot of help from my friends," Buffy said. "Willow, who's a badass Wicca, did a spell that weakened her. And, I had a troll hammer from Anya that could hurt her. Spike's Buffybot, which is still many levels of creepy, even softened her up some. But, it was close. Even with all the help, I still died in the process."

"Died? You mean like the time you drowned?" Joe said.

"No, I mean dead for three months, had a funeral and everything dead. There's still a tombstone with my name on it in Sunnydale Memorial. You know, it's weird. The Master kills me and I'm technically dead for like a minute and it still freaks me. Then I die a second time, am dead for months, actually have to claw my way out of my grave and it doesn't really bother me anymore. I mean I still have the occasional buried alive nightmare--that's the kind of thing that sticks with you--but when I'm awake I'm not big with the fear," Buffy said musingly as she poured the grated carrots into her cake batter and stirred vigorously.

"You were dead, and now you're alive again. You must truly be a hero for the gods to grant you the gift of renewed life," Legolas said, looking at Buffy in awe.

Buffy snorted at Legolas's assumption. "Coming back to life wasn't exactly a gift and I doubt the gods had much to do with it," she said cynically. "Willow and the rest of my friends were the ones to bring me back, and they really shouldn't have."

"Your friend can bring back the dead?" Joe asked incredulously.

"She can, if the circumstances are right. Or, at least she could. Now that she's given up the dark magics, she probably can't anymore," Buffy said, pouring batter into cake pans.

"Blood magic," Legolas gasped. "There are tales of sorcerers who could trade one life for another, but I thought they were myth, scary stories to tell on dark nights." Then recalling that this was a friend of Buffy's he added, "Even if the one she killed to give you life was an enemy, it was still wrong--although it may not have seemed so at the time."

"I don't know. Trading in some murderer or rapist for a person who does a lot of good doesn't seem like such a bad deal to me," Joe said pragmatically.

"But, it's among the darkest of dark magics, grounded deeply in selfishness and lack of respect for life. The practice itself is a corruption," Legolas argued.

"Excuse me guys, sorry to interrupt your philosophical argument and everything, but I should probably mention that Will didn't kill anyone, not any people that is, at least not to bring me back. She killed a baby deer. And, as bad as killing Bambi is, that wasn't really the reason I said she shouldn't have done it," Buffy interrupted as she put the cake pans in the oven.

"Then why shouldn't she have done it?" Joe asked. "If you don't mind talking about it," Joe tacked on, belatedly realizing the touchiness of the subject.

"Because, I was dead, finished with being alive, and very happy to be that way. I'm only now getting the hang of this living thing again. After being ripped out of heaven, I was pretty out of it for awhile," Buffy explained matter of factly. "And, I really don't mind talking about it. Being dead wasn't half bad. I mostly don't mention it for my friends' sakes. They don't like to think about me being dead. It was a pretty bad time for them."

"You were in heaven?" Joe asked in amazement. Then realizing how what he just said sounded he added, "Not that I think you couldn't get in. It's just that talking to someone who's been dead and knows what comes after is... unbelievable."

"You know what happens to the souls of men after death?" Legolas asked, curiosity momentarily overcoming his disturbance over what happened.

"Yes and yes, kind of," Buffy answered, pushing herself up to sit on the counter across from Legolas and Joe. "It's all pretty fuzzy now, but I remember being happy. Completely happy, no worry, no fear, no pain."

"That is... good to know. I have many mortal friends and I have wondered," Legolas said.

"I thought you said elves can die too," Buffy said, brow wrinkled in confusion. "You say that like you never will."

"Our physical bodies can be destroyed, but out spirits never leave the world. When we die we come to reside in the halls of Mandos which is in our world but on the Western Continent. Other, still living elves, can visit the dead there and the dead can leave the hall itself as long as they do not leave Valinor," Legolas explained. "The race of men experiences true death. Their spirits leave the world and go to we know not where."

"Okay, you're saying elves don't really die-die, like humans die. They just get confined to a specific place on the planet and people can still visit," Buffy said, trying to see if she heard right.

"Yes," Legolas agreed. "Except not all people can visit. Only immortal races such as elves and the Maiar are allowed in the western lands. Mortal sailors have tried to find it, but storms and fog prevent them from landing."

"Trippy," Buffy said. 

"What's so special about the Western Continent?" Joe asked.

"It is the home of the Valar, who are... lesser gods is as close as I can explain," Legolas answered. "They were created by Illuvatar, the creator of all things, to fulfill his vision."

"You're saying your people actually live with and can literally have a conversation with gods and the spirits of dead people?" Joe asked, completely blown away by the concept.

"My people, other elves live there, but not me or my... family of elves," Legolas attempted to clarify, "I am Sindarin, my kindred and I stayed in Middle-earth. The West calls to me, but I have too many ties in the land of my birth to leave just yet. But, other elves, the Calaquendi, went into the West and a group, the Noldor, returned to Middle-earth. I have not seen these things for myself, but it is known through our songs and tales. And, the Noldor spoke of it until their departure just a few years ago. The age of elves is passing in Middle-earth, the age of men is upon us and the land shall be left to them. Soon all elves will live in the West, but I haven't yet been there."

"I've dedicated my life to documenting the activities of so called Immortals, but even they die. It's strange to think that there's such a thing as being more immortal than an Immortal," Joe said slowly, having no idea what to think of Legolas's revelations about elven nature.

"Weird," Buffy reiterated her previous sentiment, shaking her head slightly. "It's like oops, I died, and now I have to go live in China. Although, that would have to kinda suck, if all your friends and family are still living in the States. I'm guessing you don't have email and long-distance plans with extra weekend minutes to keep in touch with people living half a world away. You'd just have to wait for them to get to China too, which really doesn't seem like a good thing since that means they're dead too, or something... " Buffy trailed off, completely confused by all the ramifications and alternatives.

"You see my... difficulty," Legolas said, nodding at Buffy's analysis of the situation. "Sail into the West to be with all of my kin who have gone before me, or stay in Middle-earth until the last, to be with the mortal friends I have there. I wish to be there for what time they have left, but I do not want to be there at the end. Death is foreign to my race and very...disturbing."

"What difference does it make?" Buffy asked, brow wrinkled in confusion. "Whether you see them die or are on the other side of the world and just know they must be dead? It all adds up to the same thing, right? They're gone, and you're not going to see them anymore."

"Knowing and seeing are two different things," Joe explained. "As long as you don't actually see the body or know the details it's not real. You can still picture them like you last saw them, alive and well, happy somewhere. But, once it's real for you, there's no going back. Then dead's just dead."

"That's it! Exactly," Legolas exclaimed. "I thought I was simply being foolish. I could never quite justify the nagging sense of dread to myself."

"Oh," Buffy said, the sense of Joe's explanation finally sinking in. "I see what you mean. I guess it just doesn't come up too often around here, death usually being kind of the up close and personal, couldn't avoid it if you tried, variety."

The three silently contemplated what they had learned for a few moments then Buffy said, "Well, I think I've reached my morbid quotient for today. Now, what can we talk about besides death? Legolas, you never said what you're going to say to Anya next time she corners you."

"I don't know," Legolas answered with a sigh of frustration. "I have dropped every subtle hint I could think of and still she persists."

"Anya doesn't do subtle, you're going to have to come right out and say you're not interested," Buffy informed the elf.

"I don't want to insult her," Legolas protested.

"Don't worry too much about that. As long as you avoid old, fat, or ugly as excuses, Anya's not going to be offended. Other than about her looks she's pretty thick skinned," Buffy pointed out. Seeing Legolas's continued reluctance, Buffy then suggested, "Or you could always lie. Lying would work."

"Lie?" Legolas asked dubiously, arching one eyebrow in a critical fashion.

"Just a little white one, so as not to hurt her feelings. It's not even really a lie, more of a fib," Buffy defended her suggestion. "You could tell her that..."

"You have someone waiting for you back home," Joe finished for Buffy. "She can't take a rejection personally if it's because you're already taken."

"Yeah, good idea," Buffy agreed with Joe's suggestion. "I was going to say vow of celibacy or maybe that you're gay. Girlfriend back home is way better."

"You're really not a very good liar, are you?" Joe said, looking at Buffy incredulously. 

"Nope, notoriously bad at it. Fortunately, something about living on a Hellmouth makes most people willing to believe just about anything," Buffy replied, completely undisturbed by her crappy lying skills.

"I'm going to see how Duncan and Dawn are doing, perhaps I can be of some assistance," Legolas excused himself from the conversation.

"Think we scared him off?" Buffy asked Joe, as soon as the basement door closed behind the elf.

"If anything scared him off it was that bit about a vow of celibacy," Joe returned.

"It was just a suggestion," Buffy said with a shrug. Then glancing at the timer on the oven, she said, "I better get started on the icing."

"Anything I can do to help?"

"Nah, I got it covered," Buffy said getting out a mixing bowl.

"So, about that secret military operation, what happened after Spike got all of you fighting with each other?" Joe asked, finally getting to his original reason for coming over.

"Oh, right, I forgot I was telling you about that," said Buffy. "Let me see where was I, Spike had dropped a bunch of nasty insinuations, Adam was about to start a human/demon war, and none of the Scoobies were talking to each other, then..."

* * * * * *

In the basement, Duncan was teaching Dawn some very basic quarterstaff exercises. When he'd spotted the quarterstaves in the corner of the room, he figured them to be an excellent compromise between the hand to hand techniques she'd need now to fight vampires and the fencing skills she'd need later for Immortal battles, quarterstaff skills being transferable to both areas.

Duncan watched her closely as she went through the routine alternately praising and criticizing. "Good follow through. Watch your stance." 

Dawn finished the basic routine he'd outlined for her and asked, "How'd I do, teach?"

"You did good. Are you sure you haven't had any martial arts classes before?" he asked, slightly puzzled.

"Uhmm... no. No classes, but I've been watching Buffy for years. And, when Giles was training Buffy, I was around a lot of the time," Dawn suggested with a shrug.

"Actually, I was wondering about your unusually good sense of balance, for a beginner. I've never seen a good way to learn that other than practice." 

"Oh, that. That's probably from six years of ballet and two years of tap," Dawn explained. 

"And, you didn't think to mention this?" Duncan said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You didn't ask," Dawn pointed out. "Besides, that was like three years ago. It's almost as if it never happened." Then under her breath she added, "More like, exactly as if."

"Are there any more classes you've neglected to mention which might have contributed to what you already know," Duncan said, pinching the bridge of his nose and realizing why he normally waited till pre-Immortals were adults to start this training business.

"Six months of gymnastics, but I quit after the teacher yelled at me for not being able to do a simple cartwheel," Dawn added.

The basement door opened and Legolas stepped inside. "I'm not interrupting, am I?" Legolas asked, closing the door behind him.

"We were just finishing up here," Duncan said, "Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing wrong. Buffy was just suggesting that I tell Anya I'm gay or have taken a vow of celibacy. I'm not sure what either of those things are, but I somehow got the feeling that I didn't want to know," Legolas answered as he descended the staircase.

"Gay means you only like to have sex with men and a vow of celibacy is where you swear not to have sex, ever," Dawn explained brightly. "Since we're done, I'm going to go take a shower." Then Dawn stepped around Legolas and bounded up the stairs.

Legolas and Duncan watched Dawn exit the basement, slamming the door behind herself. Then turning toward Duncan, Legolas said, "I was right, I didn't want to know. Is there nothing that is not permitted in conversation?"

"Nothing I can think of off hand," Duncan said with shrug. 

Looking around the room at the exercise equipment and the weapons on the wall--which Legolas hadn't yet seen, Buffy running down to get the target on her own--Legolas observed, "Buffy appears to take training very seriously."

"Yeah, it's a lot better than I expected for a home gym," Duncan agreed. "Care to give it a try?"

"Considering the coming battle, we really should keep in practice," Legolas pointed out, grinning.

"My thoughts exactly," Duncan replied with a matching grin. Then he tossed the elf a quarterstaff.

* * * * * *

Meanwhile, at the Magic Box, Methos was avidly reading an account of his own life from the point of view of a 12th century magician who claimed to be a reincarnation of Death. When he reached a section about how Death shared a psychic connection with his horse, Methos couldn't suppress a snicker.

"Something funny about this thing we need to kill?" Anya asked. "I would like to hear something funny, creatures that inspire humor are less fear inducing, or so I've been told."

"Actually, it doesn't have anything to do with the Order of Thalos," Methos said apologetically. "Some jackass named Theobold thought he was me in a past life, I couldn't resist reading his version of 'our' life."

"Theobold the Delusional, he really was a jackass. He was this scrawny little bald guy with warts. Would go on for hours about how scary and he was and called himself the Destroyer while everyone laughed at him behind his back. But, he did do absolutely the best lust charms ever, could get any two or more creatures to mate. If you wanted the best, you kind of had to put up with him," Anya reminisced.

"You knew this guy?" Methos asked, intrigued.

"Well, not very well. He was irritating and creepy, so I didn't socialize with him or anything. But, I did buy the odd lust charm from him. You know vengeance against a mama's boy, making him literally fall in love--or, well, lust--with his mother. I could have done it myself with the power of the wish, but I really didn't want to get too personal with cases like that. It was just too Oedipal and icky. You want some distance sometimes, you know?" Anya explained.

Methos flipped to the back of the book, where the spells were written, and said, "You're saying these really work?"

Anya glanced over Methos's shoulder to see specifically what he was looking at and answered, "Yeah, but I wouldn't try it if I were you. Lust is advanced magic, and even when you know what you're doing lust spells have a tendency to go wrong. There've been more deaths from love and lust spells gone wrong than all the intentional deaths by magic put together."

"Thanks for the warning," Methos said gingerly closing the book and placing it back on the shelf, not wanting to accidentally cast a spell. He had read in another book that many spells only require reading aloud and he could easily picture himself reading a passage aloud without thinking. "I think it's about time for lunch. Care to join me?"

"Let me go fetch my coat and we'll go," Anya agreed.

"Over lunch, perhaps you'll be willing to tell me some more about your life as a demon," Methos suggested as he helped Anya put on her white, 50s style, coat.

"You actually want to hear about that?" Anya said in disbelief.

"Of course I do, I find your stories fascinating."

"Really? I mean, sure, if you want me to. Everyone around here gets this blank, 'smile while Anya tells another one of her boring stories we don't care about,' look whenever I say something. But, if you're really interested..."

"I am," Methos confirmed.

"Well, in that case, I'll tell you about how I became a vengeance demon in the first place. I had this big dumb boyfriend and he..."

Methos offered Anya his arm and the two of them strolled out of the Magic Box as Methos avidly listened to a life story even more peculiar than his own.

* * * * * *

Later that evening, Methos and Anya were having dinner together. Methos was finally persuaded to share some of his past exploits with the vengeance demon, having come to the conclusion that a woman who freely admits to burning people alive and starting major wars didn't have much room to judge.

Joe and Dawn were watching Christmas movies with Legolas and trying to explain to the elf just what was so wonderful about _It's a Wonderful Life_ and why Christmas just isn't Christmas without watching _A Christmas Carol_ at least once. Dawn and Legolas had decided to skip patrol since vampires probably weren't going to be running rampant. Joe wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to get to know a pre-Immortal. He had the sake of Watcher posterity to consider. 

Buffy and Duncan, both being ultra conscientious in what they perceived as their duties, decided to do a quick patrol of Sunnydale. "You know, you really don't need to come along," Buffy told Duncan as they passed through the gates of the first cemetery on their route. "The few vamps left are probably going to be laying low for awhile. I doubt there's going to be much action at all, and nothing I can't handle."

"Like you could have handled last night alone?" Duncan asked pointedly.

"Hey, totally unfair. Last night was...unusual," Buffy objected.

"I know, you're right. If that was every vampire in Sunnydale last night, there's probably not much to do tonight. But, I can't just go back to the hotel and take a nap if I know you're out here," Duncan attempted to explain. Seeing the irritated look on Buffy's face, he hastily added, "It's not that I don't think you can handle whatever's out here. I'm sure you can, better than I could--you are the expert. But, if there's anything I can do, I can't not do it."

"It's not me, it's you. I get it," Buffy said with a nod. "That's the reason why I'm wasting a perfectly nice Christmas Eve strolling through cemeteries. On the off chance there are some vamps roaming around biting people, I can't not be here. What I don't get is why? Why are you here? I've got a sacred duty. What's your excuse?"

Duncan and Buffy walked along in silence. When Buffy was just about to give up on getting an answer to her question, Duncan said quietly, in almost a whisper, "I killed a friend--someone who counted on me--not too long ago."

"Oh... that sucks," Buffy replied. Then a beat later, she added, "So, what was the deal?"

"The deal?" Duncan asked surprised by Buffy's ready acceptance of his past misdeed and confused by the question.

"You know, what happened? He was evil? You were evil? Accident? Why'd you do it? There must have been a reason. You don't strike me as the, 'I get my jollies by killing my friends,' type and if you were you probably wouldn't have this whole guilt thing over it," Buffy explained, all quite calmly.

"Ahriman, before I killed him, he got inside my head. He made me think Richie was someone else, think he was an enemy. I was weak and stupid, I let Ahriman trick me. I killed Richie, even though he trusted me, looked up to me, and was only trying to help," Duncan explained not looking at Buffy, self condemnation apparent in his voice.

"You know, I really hate that, when the bad guys start with the mind games. Why can't they just try to kill you and leave the head trips out of it?" Buffy complained. 

Duncan's head jerked up and he gave Buffy a questioning look, "You're not shocked at what I did?"

"Not particularly, I mean who hasn't tried to kill all their friends at least once?" Buffy asked with a perfectly straight face.

"You tried to kill your friends?" Duncan asked, thinking Buffy was just trying some new clever plan to cheer him up and she couldn't possibly have done such a thing.

"Well, yeah. Just a few months ago. I got stabbed by a demon with crazy venom. Then I tied up all of my friends and locked them in the basement with a demon. If I'd taken a minute longer to snap out of it, they'd all be dead," she explained matter of factly. Then, in her own favor, she added, "Since I was under the influence at the time, mine was one of the less dramatic kill all your friends occasions. Some of the others were way worse, even if I do say so myself." 

"Worse, worse how?" Duncan said, morbidly fascinated.

"Well, there's Willow's breakdown just recently. After Tara died she OD'd on dark magic and nearly destroyed the entire world, friends included. She would have too, if Xander hadn't talked her down. But, that wasn't really her. Her lover was shot right in front of her, she was kind of out of her mind.

"And, Spike, my kind of ex. He tried to kill us all on multiple occasions. Come to think of it, he said he was going to kill me the first time we ever met. A couple years later, he chained me to a wall and was going to kill me to impress his ex, changed his mind, and offered to kill her to impress me. Then, believe it or not, I started dating him--if you can call it dating--after all this happened. He doesn't really have any excuses, except the part about being evil undead and it's about what you can expect from him. But, on the bright side, he did help save the world a few times.

"And, Angel, can't forget Angel. Lost his soul and turned evil for awhile, back when we were still together. He killed Ms. Calendar, one my teachers and Giles' girlfriend. Then Angelus left her body in Giles' bed for him to find, just to turn the knife that extra little bit. Then he got his soul back and was good again. And, several centuries in hell have to count for something too. 

"And then there was..." Finally noticing Duncan's horrified expression, Buffy broke off her narrative. "I guess the details don't really matter. The point is, most of my friends have nearly killed us all at least once, and if you count the accidents we're all guilty. But, there were circumstances... lots and lots of circumstances."

"And, these circumstances make it okay?" Duncan protested.

"Not okay. I don't think anything can make it okay. People have died and others very nearly did," Buffy admitted. "But, they do make it... understandable. You make a mistake and you try not to do it again. Feeling the feelings of guilt doesn't fix anything. It just makes people want to avoid you because you're all depressing and not big with the fun." 

"Now you sound like Methos, except I don't think he'd ever use the phrases 'not big with the fun' or 'feeling the feelings of guilt,'" said Duncan.

"There's no need to be insulting. I, in no way, sound like his annoyingness," Buffy objected.

"Methos can be irritating, but he's not that bad," Duncan insisted.

"If you don't mind being treated like a two year old who has to be watched carefully so you don't start eating glue," Buffy said, rolling her eyes.

Buffy and Duncan walked along in silence for awhile longer, then Duncan asked, "Your friends, when they tried to kill you, how could you forgive them?"

"That's easy. They're my friends, so of course I forgave them. Once the attempts on my life were over and everything was back to normal, I couldn't do anything else," Buffy said, giving Duncan an encouraging smile.

"And forgiving yourself?" Duncan asked.

"You got me there," Buffy admitted. "I mean, I don't worry too much about the near misses. Accidents happen, but when people actually die... I didn't forgive myself for sending Angel to hell until after he came back. If he didn't return, I probably be carrying around the guilt for that one around to this day."

"You sent Angel to hell?" Duncan asked.

"It was the only way to keep the Hellmouth from opening," Buffy replied.

Duncan lapsed into silence, brooding about his former student's death. And, the two completed yet another uneventful cemetery sweep.

****

CHAPTER 12

Late Christmas morning, at the hotel...

Duncan left his room and fumbled to shut the door behind him without dropping any brightly wrapped packages. Managing to close the door without incident, he started toward the stairs, but then he spotted Joe over by the elevators.

"Give me one of those, before you drop something," Joe said watching Duncan juggle two long narrow boxes and a bag with a few more gifts in it. Taking one of the long boxes, Joe asked, "What did you get them anyway? The stores must have been pretty picked over yesterday afternoon."

"Buffy and Dawn were easy. Did you know there are, not one, but three stores that sell weapons in Sunnydale? Not hunting rifles and reproductions but actual swords, axes, spears, and one place even had a mace," Duncan replied, amazed the weirdness of Sunnydale could escape the notice of the rest of the world.

"If I lived here, I think I'd want to keep a few weapons around the house. Just in case," Joe agreed. "I wondered why Legolas needed to come along on your shopping expedition. You found a bow up to his standards?"

"Not exactly. He insists there's something immoral about fiberglass bows, but Buffy doesn't have one and fiberglass is better than nothing. He did find one acceptable, but just barely," Duncan explained as they stepped onto the elevator and rode down to the lobby. "Speaking of Legolas, where is he? He wasn't in his room when I went by." 

"Off doing whatever it is he does at the crack of dawn," Joe shrugged. "Last night he mentioned exploring the nearby woods, see if anything's hiding out there. He'll meet us at the girl's house at noon." After a brief pause Joe continued, "What I want to know is where the old man got off to. He's normally still asleep this time of day, but he's not here."

Duncan grinned and said, "Whether or not he's still asleep probably depends on how early a riser Anya is."

"Him and Anya? You think?" Joe prompted, wanting to get the whole scoop.

"He wasn't here when we came in, and he didn't come in during the night. His room's close enough to mine, I would have noticed. And, those two have been spending a lot of time together lately..." Duncan trailed off, leaving Joe to draw the obvious conclusion.

They went out to the parking lot, got in the car, and Duncan started driving to the Summers' house. After giving Methos and Anya's possible relationship some thought, Joe said, "Considering the circumstances, I wouldn't have thought he'd do it."

"Do what? Date Anya?" Duncan asked glancing over at Joe for confirmation. "Why not? Alexa's been gone for awhile now. It's time to move on."

"I wasn't thinking of Alexa. I was thinking of Anya and her status as a vengeance demon. He doesn't have the best track record with women scorned. Starting something with a woman who's been punishing men professionally for a millennia seems kind of risky and living on the edge isn't exactly his style," Joe explained.

"That ban on magical interference with Immortals probably helps. Even if she is a demon, she can't do anything to him," Duncan pointed out. "Nothing magical anyway," he qualified his previous statement.

"But, our even being here is an exception to the rule. How do we know your interfering with the supernatural doesn't let the supernatural interfere with you?" Joe argued.

"I hadn't thought of that," Duncan said, brow wrinkled in thought. Then with a wide grin spreading across his face, he asked, "Do you think that's occurred to Methos?"

"I don't know," Joe said with an answering grin. "One of us really should mention it to him, just in case."

* * * * * *

Methos was having a happy dream of eating mutton, which was odd because he had never liked mutton. But, in this dream, he was eating it and for some reason enjoying it immensely. Then he felt an unpleasant jab in his side and heard an insistent voice telling him to wake up.

Methos rolled over onto his back, ran a hand through his sleep tangled hair, and looked blearily at the vengeance demon before him. Anya was pulling on a scarlet dress with a high neck, long sleeves, and a full skirt. Turning her back to Methos she said, "Zip me up. Dinner's in an hour and I have to stop by the Magic Box; I left the presents in my office."

"I would have never guessed you were the type to get into the holiday spirit," Methos said, sitting up and zipping Anya's dress.

Anya grabbed her purse off the bedside table. Then turning back to Methos, as she checked to make sure she had everything, she said, "That whole son of God, virgin birth business is absurd. Who believes in virgins anymore? But, an orgy of retail shopping, that I can really get behind. Besides, I look good in red."

"That you do," Methos said, eyeing the formfitting dress appreciatively.

Anya preened a little, then said, "I'm going to get those presents. See you at Buffy's house in an hour. Buffy can get a little crazy about holidays. You do not want to be late." Anya gave Methos a quick kiss goodbye and left her apartment.

Methos lay back on the bed, stretched, and reflected on the night before. Smiling to himself he wondered if the stamina and insatiability came from being a demon, or if that was just Anya. In a lazy and contented mood Methos slowly got out of bed and meandered toward the shower. Halfway there, a thought suddenly occurred to the ancient Immortal. His relaxed posture turned rigid as his good mood fled and was replaced by a vague sense of unease. "She does know that... doesn't think we... I mean she is over a thousand... crap... I'm screwed," Methos muttered to himself after suddenly realizing that Anya might not believe their relationship was as casual as he intended it to be. Normally, Immortals of her age would notice the signs, but Anya was far from normal.

Shrugging aside his concerns for the moment, Methos took a quick shower, got dressed in the wrinkled clothes from the night before, had a glass of orange juice, brushed his hair, reminding himself once again to get that haircut he'd been meaning to get around to for the past couple weeks, and then went to the hotel for a change of clothes before dinner. 

* * * * * *

At the Summers residence Dawn was introducing Legolas to eggnog. "What's in it?" Legolas asked eyeing the thick white liquid suspiciously.

"Eggs and, uhmmm... nog?" Dawn replied hesitantly. "Just try it," she ordered.

"You don't know what's in it," Legolas accused.

"Taste it," Dawn insisted. Legolas sniffed the thick liquid in the glass Dawn handed him. Not finding the scent unpleasant, he cautiously took a sip. "Well?" Dawn demanded impatiently.

"It's not bad," Legolas conceded. Taking another sip, he added, "Once you get past the texture, it's... good."

"See, I told you so," Dawn said triumphantly. "Would I lead you astray?"

"Yes," Legolas answered, without hesitation. "What was that you made yesterday? A peanut butter and pickle sandwich?"

"I can't help it if there's something wrong with your taste buds and you don't know good food when you eat it," Dawn replied with a perfectly straight face.

Whatever Legolas was about to say to that was cut off by the ringing of the doorbell followed by a present laden Anya letting herself in. "Oooh, presents," Dawn said relieving Anya of her burden, "I'll put them under the tree."

"I thought I heard the bell," Buffy said entering the living room and taking off her apron. "You're right on time, the ham's perfect, my casseroles are done, and I just put the rolls in the oven." Then looking at the huge stack of gifts Anya brought, Buffy added, "You shouldn't have bought so much stuff. It's way too much." 

"Tis the season to go shopping," Anya said with a shrug as she took off her coat.

"Wow, I love the dress," Buffy said. "You look great... happy," she added noticing Anya's expression.

"It's the sex. Orgasms make me happy, as long as there aren't any guilt feelings involved. And, look at me, I all happy and guilt free. Which is good, because I really don't like guilt. I mean, what's the point?" Anya babbled.

"Uh huh," Buffy replied momentarily nonplused by the guilt tangent. Then getting back to the important thing she asked, "Sex? What? With who?"

"Methos spent the night at my place last night. Five thousand years of experience counts for a lot... tons. And, he's very flexible and in excellent shape. You can't tell with all those baggy sweaters of his, but he's actually very muscular. I think it has something to do with the swords and the fighting. Running around with heavy, sharp, metal things can do wonders," Anya gushed.

"I could see that," Buffy agreed, "the sword part. It's good to know you're happy."

"Looks like you're off the hook," Dawn observed in an aside to Legolas.

"A fact for which I am very grateful," Legolas replied too quietly for Anya to overhear. Seeing that Anya was about to continue discussing the subject at hand, he suggested that Dawn and him retreat to the kitchen.

"You can leave if you want. I'm finding this fascinating," Dawn answered, avidly taking in the conversation.

"You could be happy too," Anya said to Buffy. "I mean Duncan's not nearly as experienced and he doesn't have that vampire/formally evil bad boy thing going for him, but he's single, handsome, and he's probably given hundreds of women orgasms."

"Yes, you have a point there," Buffy said uncomfortably. Then hitting upon just the thing to distract Anya from her matchmaking plans, Buffy asked, "Flexible you say? I need details." As little as Buffy wanted to hear the details of Anya and Methos's sex-capades, she wanted to hear speculations on Duncan and her even less.

"Well, he did this thing, where--" Anya began.

Before Anya could finish her sentence, Legolas grabbed Dawn's arm and dragged the teenager from the room. "Hey, that was just getting good!" Dawn protested as the kitchen door swung shut behind her.

"Don't you feel even slightly ill at ease when friends share intimate details of things which should be kept...intimate?" Legolas asked.

"Uh... no," Dawn answered.

* * * * * *

Just as Anya finished relating the details of the night previous--including the details of several things which Buffy made a mental note to try, before remembering that there was no one to try them with--the door bell rang. Buffy let Joe and Duncan in. Anya took their coats and Buffy put their packages under the tree. Dawn and Legolas returned from the kitchen, having heard the doorbell and thinking Anya'd had enough time to finish her explanation. As everyone was exchanging greetings and 'Merry Christmas's, the doorbell rang again. Methos had arrived.

Anya let Methos in. Buffy told Dawn to start setting the table, then went to get the rolls out of the oven. Duncan gave Methos and Anya a speculative look, then went to help Dawn set the table. 

Methos took a deep breath, weighed the pros and cons of talking to Anya before dinner versus waiting till later, and decided the sooner the better. "Anya, can I speak to you privately for a minute?" he asked softly.

"Sure," Anya agreed, grabbing her coat from the rack by the door. "We can talk out on the porch swing."

Joe, discerning that the elf knew something he didn't about what was going on, started grilling Legolas on the events of the morning as soon as the door shut behind the couple.

* * * * * *

Sitting together on the swing, Methos didn't know quite where to begin. He hadn't managed to get himself into this kind of situation in recent times. Usually, he was a lot clearer about what he was getting into before he got into it.

"You wanted to talk about something?" Anya prompted.

"Yes...last night..." Methos trailed off.

"What about last night?" Anya asked, starting to dread what he might say.

Grinding his teeth and nervously examining his predicament, Methos decided to just get on with it. "Last night, did it mean anything to you?" he asked evenly.

"Mean anything? Like what?" Anya asked, confused.

"I mean, do you think we're in love or have some sort of committed relationship because of last night?" Methos explained gently, in his best letting her down easy voice.

"Oh," Anya said, the light suddenly dawning. "Why didn't you just say that in the first place? You had me worried there for a minute. I thought you were going to tell me I have some repulsive drooling habit or was bad in bed or something."

"So, you don't think we're in love," Methos stated, relieved, but slightly peeved. He'd worked himself up to reluctantly break her heart and she was fine, which lead him to wonder why she wasn't in love with him, at least a little bit.

"No offense, but I'd have to be insane to love you. I'm a vengeance demon. Love almost always leads to pain, I see it day in day out. And, if there are actually a handful of men who won't cheat on you, break your heart, or abandon you at the altar--something I very much doubt--considering the fact that there's a woman who has wanted you for crows bait for thousands of years, you're probably not one of them. Don't get me wrong, the sex was great, fantastic... really fabulous sex--," Anya enthused.

"Ah, thank you," Methos cut her off, highly flattered by her remarks on his sexual prowess, but not entirely sure what to make of Anya's position on loving him--he was offended she had such a low opinion of him on one hand but relieved she wasn't developing any romantic notions on the other. He paused for a beat then tacked on, "For me too."

"You're not just saying that to be polite, are you?" Anya asked suspiciously.

"No, I wouldn't do that," Methos protested.

"So...want to do it again?" Anya said brightly.

"How's tonight for you?" he asked.

"I'm free tonight," she answered.

* * * * * *

A few minutes later Buffy called them all to the table. The ham and potatoes were perfect, the veggies a little too salty, and the rolls slightly burnt, but they had a fantastic Christmas dinner anyway. 

Anya, once again, stated the truth about Santa Claus, after Dawn made the mistake of asking her not to and Methos expressed curiosity. In an attempt to change the subject from creepy Christmas facts, Joe wondered aloud what Amanda was up to this year. And, that led to Methos relating a comical tale of a scheme Amanda had managed to get Duncan involved in, most of the laughs being at Duncan's expense. Since that incident involved several costumes, it reminded Buffy of the Halloween they all turned into their costumes. And, the conversation proceeded through the meal, everyone happy they didn't have to edit their stories for content, or be careful to avoid all mention of the strangeness in their lives.

After everyone finished their carrot cake, which was a little gooey but still good, and the dessert plates were cleared away, they moved to the living room to exchange gifts. Buffy and Dawn sorted through the surprisingly large pile of gifts under the tree and started giving them out.

Buffy, Dawn, and Anya, jointly, got each of the guys a silver cross on a simple chain because as Anya said, "They're useful things to have around, even if you don't believe in all that God stuff." They were good size crosses of a very plain design, so as not to offend their manly sensibilities.

"No one should be in Sunnydale without one," Dawn agreed with Anya.

The girls all got each other clothes and Buffy got Dawn her very own copy of that Shakira CD Dawn'd borrowed from Janice a few weeks ago. 

Duncan, having volunteered to get presents on behalf of the Seacouver contingent for Dawn, Anya, and Buffy, got Buffy a longbow and a quiver full of arrows, Anya a nicely carved open/closed sign for her shop, and Dawn a light weight sword. All three of them were very pleased. For Joe, he picked up a rare recording of one of Joe's favorite guitarists. He gave Legolas a French wine which was similar to how Legolas described his favorite Middle-earth vintage. And, Methos received a sweater identical to several of the threadbare ones he was too lazy to replace.

Methos handed Joe and Duncan each a card with numbers on it. "Mac, yours is your chart number at Seacouver Memorial. Everyone should have a medical history, so I made one up for you. I covers up to your twenty-third year when you became a Christian Scientist and started refusing medical treatment."

"Thank you," Duncan said, finding the Christian Scientist bit amusing. "This'll let me rest a little easier when reporters and detectives start poking around in my background."

"Joe, yours is the call number of the place where I misshelved one of my chronicles. It's old enough to not have any clues that'd lead the Watchers to me. I intentionally lost it so I'd have something in reserve for when my superiors demanded results. Since, I'm off the Methos project, I thought you might find my discovery waiting to happen useful, next time you're in hot water with the council."

"If I can resist looking it up till I need it, I'm sure it'll do me some good. Between you two," Joe glanced at Duncan and Methos, "and Amanda I'm always getting myself into trouble with the council."

Joe gave Methos a bundle of mimeographed sheets. Methos looked at the top page and snorted in amusement. They were the job performance reviews of Adam Pierson the Watcher and periodic evaluations of Adam Pierson the Immortal, 'Adam' not rating a full time Watcher. Flipping through the top few sheets, he said, "That jackass Albertson, I knew he had it in for me. This is going to make for some interesting reading." Glancing through his Watcher's notes, Methos started laughing hysterically.

"What's so funny?" Buffy asked curiously. Methos handed her the papers and Buffy skimmed through them, giggled, and started reading aloud, "Older Immortal Duncan MacLeod took subject as a student. Peculiar relationship between them. Pierson does not defer to MacLeod as is usual in student/teacher relationships. Possibly a sexual relationship. Recent falling out, which seems to be mended. Lover's quarrel?"

"Give me that," Duncan said, grabbing the papers out of Buffy's hands. "Joe, what are they teaching Watchers in that academy of yours?"

Joe shrugged and said, "Anything to make an otherwise boring assignment more interesting. Besides, you haven't dated any women lately and she did only write possibly a sexual relationship. She didn't put it down as a sure thing." He was clearly not taking the situation at all seriously.

"If it was a woman, she was probably hoping Duncan had a sexual relationship Methos," Anya put her two cents in, "I'd like to watch you two having sex." At this revelation Methos started laughing even harder, while Duncan blushed a bright red. 

* * * * * *

After the gift giving part of the festivities was complete, Dawn put on a Christmas CD and they all lazed around the house, digesting. 

Anya and Methos were bickering about the details of some incident that happened in Canada during the 1870s, finally Duncan was called over to settle the dispute. Duncan disavowed any knowledge on the grounds that he wasn't in Canada during the 1870s. Anya took this as a sign that she was right and went off to get another glass of eggnog.

"Lover's spat?" Duncan asked solicitously, fishing for info on the new development in Anya and Methos's relationship and wondering if it was anything serious.

"Simple misunderstanding," Methos dismissed the matter. "She just doesn't understand that I'm right and she's wrong."

"You think that lovely lady is wrong about something, I'm shocked," Duncan said facetiously, coming to the conclusion that whatever it was between them, it wasn't serious. If the old man and Anya were deeply involved, he wouldn't be bickering with her over such inconsequential things. Despite his somewhat curmudgeonly demeanor, Methos was a romantic at heart and when truly in love he made an effort to be a bit more gallant.

"I rather enjoy Anya's company, but she can be wrong about a lot of things," Methos said in an 'I know something you don't know,' manner.

"Like what?" Duncan asked, intrigued.

"Well, she wants to set you up with Buffy for one thing," Methos said, carefully watching his friend's reaction.

"So that's what they've been up to," Duncan said, feeling a little thick for not realizing it before. "I've noticed the looks and whispers going back and forth between Dawn and Anya every time Buffy and I are in the same room. I was wondering what was going on."

"You don't mind their matchmaking efforts?" Methos asked in amazement.

"I don't plan to go along with it, if that's what you mean. Buffy's just a kid," Duncan insisted. Then he shrugged and said, "Buffy seems pretty level headed. As long as she doesn't start throwing herself at me, what Anya and Dawn think should happen doesn't make much difference."

"Are you sure Buffy's as levelheaded as you think? And, she's not just biding her time to lull you into a false sense of security?" Methos asked suspiciously.

Duncan gave Methos a speculative look as he tried to figure out what strange processes were going on in the old man's mind to make him come up with that off the wall theory. Finally, Duncan said, "You really don't like Buffy, do you? And, you were the one so anxious to meet the Slayer."

"It's not that I don't like her, exactly," Methos tried to explain.

"Well then, what is it?" Duncan demanded.

"It's just that she's the Slayer. She's suppose to be some great hero. Instead she's a flighty California girl who's obsessed with boys and clothes," Methos complained.

Duncan blinked a couple times, the corners of his mouth uncontrollably twitched upwards, then he took a deep breath and said, "Let me get this straight. You, of all people, don't like Buffy because she acts like a normal person instead of a great hero?" 

"Well, yeah. But, it's more than that," Methos protested. "You saw her. We get news of an impending apocalypse and she barely suppresses a yawn. She finds out her ex is in trouble and suddenly she's concerned. Her vampire-ex might I add." 

"Whatever you say, Methos," Duncan said facetiously, laughing a little bit at Methos's shattered heroic illusions. 

* * * * * *

Later that evening, after nightfall, Duncan found Buffy sitting alone on the porch swing wrapped in an afghan and sipping a cup of hot chocolate. "Mind if I join you?" he asked.

"Suit yourself," Buffy said with a shrug. Then noticing he'd left his duster inside and was only wearing a sweater, she asked, "Aren't you cold?"

"It's a lot warmer here than in Washington State," Duncan replied, sitting down next to Buffy. "Not patrolling," he stated more than asked.

"I worked Christmas Eve, I think I'm entitled to a night off. Besides, it's not like there's a lot of vamp activity to worry about," Buffy explained.

Buffy and Duncan swung for a while in silence, looking at the stars. Then, positive there was something bothering the Slayer that drove her out onto the porch to be alone, Duncan asked, "Penny for your thoughts?"

Buffy shifted in her seat a little, pulled her knees closer to her chin and rewrapped the afghan around herself. Then she sighed and said, "It's weird and I really can't believe I was just thinking what I was thinking." Buffy, paused a second, a funny scrunched up expression passed over her face, then she reluctantly admitted, "I was just thinking... about how I miss Spike."

"Spike... he's the vampire that tried to kill you and you sort of dated?" Duncan asked, trying to get a grasp on the situation.

"Yep, that's the one. Evil undead and I wish he was here, for some strange, inexplicable reason," Buffy confirmed.

"If you had a relationship, it's understandable, no matter how badly it ended. No one likes to be alone, especially this time of year," Duncan said sympathetically, grasping at straws.

"I don't think relationship is quite the right word. Train wreck, might be closer," Buffy said. Taking a deep breath, Buffy decided to explain. Maybe talking about it with someone who had some distance from everything that happened might help. She couldn't exactly share with her friends. They knew Spike. "You see, Spike was evil. Your typical master vampire, big with the torturing and killing. He actually managed to kill two Slayers and was proud of it. Hunting down Slayers was kind of a thing for him. He did help me save the world once, but that was because he'd miss all the 'Happy Meals with legs' as he put it and the vamp trying to end the world was sleeping with Spike's girlfriend and Spike wanted her to himself again. But still, world savage aside, evil.

"Then this secret army project vampire-napped him and put a chip in his head that stopped him from harming humans. But, he could still fight demons. So he switched sides and started helping me fight the forces of darkness because violence for a good cause was better than no violence. Which was fine, for awhile..."

"Then what happened?" Duncan asked, intrigued and knowing there was something major coming up.

"Then he fell in love with me," Buffy stated baldly, chewing on her bottom lip.

"Can vampires love? I wouldn't think they'd be able to. They are supposedly pure evil and without souls?"

"That's what I thought too, that they're incapable of love, at first, but there's way too much evidence to the contrary. He let himself get beaten to a pulp to protect me on more than one occasion, among other things. He'd die for me without a second thought. Sure, it's a creepy, stalky, obsessive kind of love, but he did care. And, from what he's told me about before he was a vampire, I think that might just be Spike, not a vamp thing, the obsessive part. So no, a soul doesn't seem to be a requirement to love somebody," Buffy explained.

"Okay, so he loved you. What did you do about it?"

"First off, I freaked. I avoided him like the plague. Then I needed his help with Glory and we came to kind of an understanding. Mostly, I wouldn't avoid him, if he didn't bring it up. It was after... my resurrection that things went completely crazy.

"I was confused, lost. Everything was all wrong, but I couldn't talk to my friends about it. They just wanted me to be normal again, happy. But, Spike, he understood. He didn't keep trying to cheer me up or act like nothing had happened. He was the only one I could stand to be around. But, he loved me and I didn't love him. I couldn't. He was still evil. He wasn't killing people then, but as soon as the chip malfunctioned he'd go right back to being a murderer. Sure, he wouldn't hurt me or my friends and he might even keep from killing anyone so I wouldn't have to stake him, but that wouldn't change what he is, a demon that gets its kicks by torturing and killing innocent people.

"I should have just stayed away, kept my distance. But, instead, I was the uber-bitch. I treated him so badly. I was beyond horrible to him. I'd tell him how he was a monster and I could never love him, that he disgusted me. Then I'd ask him for help..." Buffy interrupted her narrative for a second, considering. Then deciding 'what the heck, might as well tell the whole thing' she quietly added, "or have sex with him, knowing he couldn't say no to me. He loved me and I was just using him.

"Then, one day, he'd just had enough. He snapped and attacked me. After I kicked him away from me, and he realized what he'd done, he just bolted. I haven't seen him since."

"Attacked you? I thought he couldn't hurt humans?" Duncan asked as he thought over what Buffy'd told him.

"After I came back, the chip didn't work on me. Not human enough, I guess. But, even if it did, I'm not sure if it would have worked. It seems to work on intent and he didn't intend to hurt me," Buffy explained.

"You mean...oh, I see," Duncan said then he fell silent. Then a minute later he asked incredulously, "And you miss him, even after he tried to..."

"I said it was weird," Buffy reminded him. 

Duncan was surprised Buffy could even think about taking back someone who'd treated her that way. She seemed so strong and together. "Buffy, you know it's not okay for someone to hurt you, it's never okay," he said, trying to impress the importance of that statement on Buffy.

"I know that," Buffy said rolling her eyes. "I'm not some poor, defenseless, battered housewife. If anyone was an abuser, it was me. I used Spike, knew I was hurting him, and kept doing it. What he tried to do, that was just a reminder, a reminder that I was right not to trust him. That he wasn't just a cuddly puppy with fangs and was perfectly capable of turning on me. And, even so, I think he was more upset about it than I was. Spike likes to act like he's human, eats solid food and everything. I don't think he knew what he was doing when he did it--or tried to do it, anyway."

"So, these are more of those circumstances you were talking about and you forgive him?" Duncan said, incredulously. To him, some things were just unforgivable.

"Forgive might be going a little far. I'm still pretty pissed off at him. But, I'm more angry at myself. I was so stupid. Why did I expect anything different? I went through the he's an evil demon I can't trust speech often enough to know it by heart, but then he acts like what he is and I was in shock," Buffy berated herself.

"If he was acting as your ally and professed to love you, you couldn't have known what would happen," Duncan cajoled. "You're not perfect. Don't put yourself down for being human. It's only natural to want to believe the best of your friends, to think they wouldn't hurt you. Sometimes you're wrong, but that doesn't mean you could have done anything differently. All you can do is learn your lesson, and not let them in again," he said, stressing the not again part because he was afraid Buffy was thinking of taking the evil rapist bastard back.

"I've learned my lesson," Buffy tried to reassure Duncan. "I'm not planning to dive back into the pit of Buffy/Spike badness ever again, even if he does comeback," she said emphatically. "Still, he's good in a fight. If we don't stop this ceremony thingy coming up, he'd be good to have around."

"We'll stop the ceremony," Duncan insisted. Seeing Buffy was about to make some protest he added, "Even if we don't stop it in time we'll handle it. You'll have plenty of help without him. It's better if he stays away."

Buffy didn't say anything for awhile, hoping Duncan was right and they'd be able to handle what was coming. She knew her new friends were good in a fight, but they were new to the whole world savage gig. She'd feel a whole lot better with the normal Scooby Gang backing her up. Then, changing the subject, Buffy asked, "What you said about believing in friends and sometimes being wrong, it sounded like the voice of experience. That something that's come up a lot?"

"More than I'd like to remember. The Game has gotten to more than one of my former friends over the centuries, turned them into enemies," said Duncan in a grim tone.

"The Game? What is that exactly? Methos and Anya both mentioned it, but they didn't give me any details."

Duncan began his explanation, "You know Immortals can only die permanently if they lose their heads?" Buffy nodded. "When one Immortal beheads another, he gets all of the dead Immortal's strength and knowledge, it's called a Quickening. In the end there can be only one, and the last Immortal standing will receive the Prize. No one knows what the Prize is, but it's said to be some great power, the sum of all our Quickenings, which'll let the Immortal who wins rule the world. And, that's the Game. There are a handful of rules Immortal battles have to follow, but that's it in a nutshell."

"Okay, so you guys can live forever, but you spend your time trying to kill each other for some vague ultimate power? That sucks. And, I thought us Slayers got a raw deal. At least I'm not an Immortal," Buffy said, looking on the bright side, after a fashion.

"Is dying young so wonderful then?" Duncan demanded, wondering if Buffy had some sort of death wish. In Duncan's book, a century or two of life, even as abnormal a one as immortality dictated, was preferable to dying before you hit thirty. 

"Dying mostly just hurts. Being dead... not fantastic, but pleasant. Alive is actually much better--on occasion. The nice thing about being dead is that it's easy. You're happy all the time and you don't even have to do anything," Buffy explained matter of factly. "But that wasn't what I was thinking of.

"Even with everything that's happened, the single hardest thing was when my mom died. There were other times that came close, usually when someone I cared about was killed, But there was a reason, something I could fight. With Mom, it just happened and there was nothing I could do," Buffy paused a minute, voice cracking a little. 

"Tessa," Duncan said gravely, nodding in understanding. "I loved her. She was shot by some kid looking for money to buy drugs. It was completely senseless and there was nothing I could do."

"And if it wasn't that, it would have been something else," Buffy said sympathetically. "I don't know how you can stand it, knowing you're going to out live all your friends, except the Immortal ones who might try to kill you one day. I just... I couldn't," Buffy said half in pity, half in awe.

"You could if you had to. People can adapt to almost anything if they have no other choice," he stated.

"You get used to people dying?" Buffy asked skeptically.

"No, but you learn to make new friends, to start over. What you gain, living with people, more than makes up for the losses," Duncan said optimistically.

"Hmm..." Buffy paused for a moment then asked, "How come every time we have a conversation we have to get all touchy feely and talk about our emotions and issues and stuff? Because, it's really, really depressing. And, it's getting kind of wiggy because I'm not usually the type to over share."

That completely unexpected question surprised a laugh out of Duncan, "I don't know. I'm not the 'over sharing' type either."

****

CHAPTER 13

Duncan, Joe, and Methos were trying out the local greasy spoon for breakfast. Legolas had originally intended to join them, but after catching a whiff of burned pork fat and greasy eggs he decided to buy some fruit at a nearby veggie stand before finding a convenient spot for arrow manufacture. He'd bought a supply of straight wooden shafts from a sporting goods store, but the fletching and arrow heads weren't up to his standards.

Legolas had more than enough spending money to last till the end of his trip. The sale of a silver hair clip had brought in more than sufficient funds. He wouldn't be needing the clip in any case. Trying to blend, he was using your typical elastic band to pull his hair back in a loose ponytail, to better conceal his ears. 

Duncan and Methos had both offered to provide adequate funds for the elf, but Legolas insisted on paying his own way. After learning approximately what a dollar was worth, he wouldn't even take the entire value of the clip from Duncan. Elven crafted items were beyond anything available in this world, but since the clip was nothing special to Legolas, he didn't feel he should take an extraordinary amount of money for it.

In the diner, Methos, Joe, and Duncan didn't hesitate to order up a wide variety of fried foods and lots of coffee to wash them down with. Sausage, bacon, eggs, hash-browns, and French toast sounded and smelled like good breakfast choices to them. After the waitress delivered their order and the 'pass the syrup, where's the salt, pass the ketchup' stage of the proceedings was complete, Joe began to inform his friends of a rather interesting fax he'd received that morning.

"My sources got back to me on Dawn this morning," Joe said.

"Anything interesting?" Methos asked absently, more concerned with buttering his toast than the details of Dawn's adoption.

"Yes, actually. According to the records she wasn't adopted," Joe stated pointedly, thinking that would get the old man's attention.

"So, the Summers' family did something a little shady," Methos said with a shrug. "They wouldn't be the first couple desperate for a child to go outside the normal routes."

"That's what I thought at first too, but..." Joe trailed off as the waitress came by with the coffee pot.

As soon as she left, Duncan prompted, "But?"

"But, the records aren't your usual fakes. They're too detailed. Not only is there a birth certificate, but there are also records of Joyce Summers' prenatal care, comments by the attending physician on her delivery, immunization records, medical records from birth till their move to Sunnydale without any sudden changes in primary physician, it's all there, and everyone involved who Watchers could question agrees that there is nothing unusual or contradictory in Dawn Summers' personal history. If this was a normal pre-Immortal investigation, without a couple Immortals to confirm it for me, I wouldn't hesitate to put her in the mortal pile based on these records." Joe explained.

"I thought you said you weren't going to go digging in Dawn's background? That you were only going to look at a few documents which were part of public record?" Duncan asked accusingly.

Joe shrugged. "Sorry, but the Watchers I asked to do the research were a little over zealous," he apologized, not sounding overly contrite. Then after a pause he added, "Aren't you the least bit curious?"

Duncan looked like he was about to say something, but before he could, Methos chimed in, "I'm curious," the ancient Immortal said emphatically. "We know Dawn's pre-Immortal. Mac and I both agree on that. So, those records have to have been faked, somehow. Now, the question is why go to so much trouble?"

"I'd also like to know who did it," Joe added. "The job done on this was better than anything I've seen Immortals pull off, and you guys have had enough practice to be the best."

"How can you be so sure the records were faked?" Duncan asked his friends. "Joe, you said yourself that you can't detect a single flaw in the history and we all know fabricating a perfect backstory is practically impossible to do. And, Adam, weren't you the one lecturing me on the existence of things outside of what we normally believe in a few days ago? Buffy's the Slayer and she was brought back from the dead. The Summers' family is already strange enough, adding an Immortal to it isn't that far of a stretch."

Methos and Joe exchanged a look, then Methos began, "Duncan... I know how important family is to you, and I can see how you'd want that for Dawn, want her to actually know where she came from instead of having to wonder, like the rest of us. But, that doesn't change the facts. All Immortals are foundlings, without exception. As much as we might wish it were different, none of us will ever know where we came from. There hasn't been a single exception in 5,000 years and I seriously doubt there ever will be."

"I have to go with him on this one. Mysterious origins is an established fact of Immortal life, there isn't a single Watcher chronicle contradicting that rule. Buffy may be special, but Dawn seems pretty normal. Just your average teenage kid," Joe seconded Methos's opinion.

"You're probably right," Duncan reluctantly admitted, "It's probably just wishful thinking on my part. Finding out you're Immortal is hard enough, finding out that your family isn't actually related to you makes it that much harder. But, I can't help thinking there's something special about Dawn, something we're missing. She is supposedly able to destroy the world, or able to be used to destroy the world... " 

"I'd almost forgotten about that," Methos said, "with everything else going on. Do you think what Whistler told us about her is true?"

"Everything else was," Joe pointed out.

"I think this bears further investigation," Methos said, nodding to himself as he formulated his plan of attack. "Joe, why don't you see what you can find out from Dawn. Mac, you and Buffy seem to be hitting it off, find out what you can from her. I'll take Anya."

"I'm not going to go snooping," Duncan insisted. "If there's something they want us to know they'll tell us. This isn't a good time to start stepping on toes."

"In that case, I'll talk to Buffy," Joe volunteered. "She doesn't seem to like you much," he added, looking at Methos.

"No, I think that might work in our favor," Methos said, mentally revising his plan to leave out Duncan. "I think the direct approach would be best. I'll ask Buffy prying questions and she'll blurt something out from sheer irritation. You just concentrate on Dawn."

"There's nothing I can say to persuade you to leave well enough alone?" Duncan asked pessimistically.

"No," Methos answered simply, a big grin spreading across his face, nothing he liked better than a good mystery to sink his teeth into.

"Afraid not," Joe seconded.

"Then, will you at least be careful how you go about it? Remember, we have to be able to work together for the next few days. We don't have time for misunderstandings and hurt feelings," Duncan warned.

"I have been asking questions and finding things out for a long time now," Methos reminded. "There's nothing to worry about."

* * * * * *

Later that day everyone met back at the Magic Box to discuss the situation and to plan their next move. To start the meeting off, Methos outlined the results of his research.

"Destroying the Asarrion helped," Methos held up a book with an illustration of the symbol Buffy, Duncan, Legolas, and Dawn destroyed at the school to make sure everyone was on the same page, "but it didn't stop the ceremony from going forward. The Asarrion is a powerful binding tool. It isn't needed for the resurrection itself. The Order of Thalos probably intended to use it to make sure the Master does their bidding upon his return. Now that you've destroyed it, the Order is going to have to use some lesser binding magic, which means they're going to have to resurrect the Master at less than full strength. 

"The Asarrion would have bound him the moment he returned. Lesser binding spells take time to come into full effect. The Order will need to keep him weak until he is fully bound. Worst case scenario, and the Master is resurrected, we should have a few moments to kill him, if we can get through the cult."

"What about the prophecy thing?" Joe asked. "Isn't he suppose to be unkillable?"

"That part's completely bogus," Anya fielded the question. "All sorts of things happen that aren't in prophesies and even stuff that is prophesied gets screwed up all the time. Accidents happen."

"So, what do we do now?" Legolas asked.

"Stick to the original plan," Methos said. "We try to find Buffy's friend before the 29th. If they don't have him, they can't perform the ceremony. Failing that, we know when and where they're doing it, we try to stop them on the night. And, if we're too late. The Master comes back, we make a path through the Order and Buffy kills him while he's still weak."

"I've dusted the Master before, I can do it again," Buffy said with determination, "But, I'm not up for losing Angel. We have to stop them before they kill him."

"We will," Duncan said confidently.

* * * * * *

Buffy had been around to all the usual demon haunts, but none of her snitches had any information. Still having several days to work on the problem and as small a town as Sunnydale was, they still had hopes of finding the Order's base before the big day.

They decided to get organized in their search for the Order of Thalos's hideout. Joe agreed to organize the search from the Magic Box, utilizing the city plans and maps which were on the laptop Willow left behind. Besides, someone had to be there to receive the packages Anya was expecting. 

The rest split up into pairs. Methos, thinking this was a good time to start grilling Buffy, got himself teamed up with the Slayer. Legolas volunteered to keep an eye on Dawn, not fancying the idea of an entire afternoon with Anya. She'd stopped propositioning him when she formed her liaison with Methos, but she still had a tendency to ask extremely personal and embarrassing questions. That left Duncan with Anya.

Duncan tentatively volunteered to take the cave systems, having had some experience spelunking. Anya shrugged her agreement, saying, "As long as it isn't sewers."

Methos started to call dibs on the warehouse district, but Buffy elbowed him in the side to shut him up and suggested that assignment for Legolas and her sister. Then she volunteered Methos and herself for sewer duty.

The three pairs set off for their respective search areas, cell phones on hand for reporting findings back to Joe.

* * * * * *

"What on earth possessed you to volunteer us for sewer patrol?" Methos asked as they climbed down into the sewer through the manhole behind the Magic Box.

"Someone has to do it," Buffy shrugged. "Why did you want to be paired off with me? And, don't say my sparkling personality, because I know you think I'm sparkle-less."

"What makes you think this was my idea?" Methos asked innocently.

Buffy snorted in amusement, then said, "Maybe the fact that it was. You were only moderately obvious in arranging it."

"And, I thought I was being subtle," Methos said with chagrin.

"Too much time with Anya. The unsubtle has rubbed off on you. Next thing you know, you'll be asking perfect strangers about the frequency of their orgasms and ordering them to buy stuff," Buffy said, as if making a sage observation.

"You know, you're not half as flighty as you pretend to be," Methos observed.

"Excuse me, but I never pretend to be flighty," Buffy protested. 

"Maybe I should rephrase. That is, you're only half as flighty as you look," Methos rejoined unable to let Buffy's misstatement go without comment.

"I'm not flighty," Buffy insisted, giving Methos an evil look which he just ignored, "Don't assume I'm a bimbo because I'm blond and look cute in leather pants. Too many people make that mistake. Lots of them have horns or are all ridgy, so then the mistake's in my favor, but with actual people--it get annoying."

"Mmmm hmm," Methos replied, purposely sounding skeptical.

"Don't think I don't know what you're up to. You're trying to distract me from asking about why you're down here with me. You didn't distract, so spill," Buffy ordered.

"Actually, I wanted to know about your sister," Methos said, thinking the direct approach was best.

"What about my sister?" Buffy asked suspiciously, eyes narrowing threateningly.

Not to be scared off by a threatening tone from a little blond girl, Methos pressed, "That Whistler chap had some rather interesting things to say about her. Ending the world if she fell into the wrong hands, that's a pretty dire threat. I was wondering if you'd care to elaborate?"

"No, I wouldn't care to elaborate," Buffy said with a brittle smile. "Why the sudden interest? That was days ago."

"I was plenty interested at the time, but there was too much else to look into. Now that the most pressing matters have been taken care of, I have time to get back to satisfying my curiosity," Methos explained.

"You're just going to have to be unsatisfied," Buffy said with finality. Then thinking better of her statement, she added, "Your curiosity I mean. Unsatisfied curiosity. Other kinds of satisfaction or unsatisfaction are none of my business and I really don't want to know."

"Come now, we're all on the same side here," Methos wheedled. "Your friend Whistler obviously thought it was something we should know, or he wouldn't have told us. Maybe we need to know what's so special about Dawn. It could be significant."

"One, Whistler's not my friend. He just shows up from time to time to deliver really bad news. Two, he told you Dawn needed protection from the bad guys. If you needed to know more, he would have told you. And three, the fewer people who know about Dawn the safer everyone is. I'm not telling near strangers anything, especially not to satisfy idle curiosity," Buffy replied, unmoved by Methos's argument.

Methos undaunted, continued to argue, "It isn't idle curiosity. Why would Whistler bring up such a potentially dangerous piece of information if it weren't important? Remember, he didn't tell the full story about anyone, just enough to get us working together and he left the rest of the explanations to us. How do you know this isn't some key piece of information which will be vital to the plan?"

"Trust me, it isn't," Buffy cut him off. "Dawn has absolutely nothing to do with bringing monsters back from the dead. Ask all you want, I'm not telling you anything."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Methos quietly muttered to himself, as he let the Slayer step through a narrow hatchway ahead of him. "You already have."

Buffy looked back through the hatchway at Methos and said, "And I'm not flighty!"

* * * * * *

In a prison several hours away, Faith was lying on her bunk, staring up at the ceiling. Her eyes traced the crack running parallel to the wall for the millionth time as she tried to decide what to do with her afternoon. There was a gang fight that morning so the entire prison was on lock down, leaving her with two possible choices. Lie in her bunk, going slowly insane. Or get up and pace the narrow cell, going slowly insane.

The dark haired Slayer had learned a lot about patience and repressing her more violent urges in the years she'd been in prison. As long as she was working or working out in the gym, it was almost bearable. But, hours and hours of just lying there, with nothing to do, it was driving her up the wall. Even group therapy was better than this.

Faith heard the repetitive clicking of a retractable pen coming from the bunk beneath her. Her cell mate, Janey, had paused for a moment in her letter writing to formulate her thoughts. Faith momentarily considered striking up a conversation with Janey, to pass the time, but dismissed it as a bad idea. Janey killed her two kids because her boyfriend didn't like them. Most of the time, Faith didn't mind sharing a cell with the woman. She was quiet and left Faith alone. But, if the two of them struck up a conversation, Faith knew she'd be tempted to strangle the crazy bitch; then Faith'd be thrown into solitary which would push her over the edge for sure. Faith had done a lot of sick shit in her time and could forgive a lot of things, but turning on your own kids was just wrong.

Faith turned over on to her stomach and grabbed a nail file from a shelf bolted to the wall at the head of her bunk. It was the sandpaper-cardboard kind of nail file, not the sharp metal kind. No one in their right mind would let Faith have the dangerous variety. Sitting up on the bunk, her legs crossed Indian style and back against the wall, Faith inspected her already perfectly filed nails for any possible imperfection. Finding nothing to do, Faith started rhythmically tapping the nail file on one polyester clad thigh while the other knee bounced to the same too-much-frustrated-energy rhythm. Faith's fidgeting had set the springs of her bunk to squeaking in a counterpoint to her nervous movements.

Janey, her letter writing disturbed by the irritating squeaks, leaned out from the bottom bunk and looked up at Faith as if about to make a complaint. Taking one look at the tense Slayer, Janey changed her mind about complaining and quietly went back to her letter writing.

Faith jumped off her bunk and wandered over to the tiny barred window on the other side of their tiny cell, telling herself a little sunlight might do some good. Looking out the window Faith thought to herself, 'See it isn't so bad. Sunlight, little patch of grass, pretty. It's a lot better than fire and brimstone which is pretty much my only other option. Sure, this prison thing sucks, but it's not like it's supposed to be summer camp. 

'Hey, three square meals a'day. Can't beat that. And, no one trying to kill me, most people'd call that a plus. In twenty, thirty years, I'll get my parole and I can go back to fighting the forces of evil. Die first time out, being old and out of practice, but I'll get in one good fight before the end. What more can a girl ask for? Lot more than I deserve,' Faith tried to rationalize her situation.

'Damn, who am I kidding? What the hell am I doing here? I should just off myself. If I had the guts for it, I would. I'm no good to anyone in this cage. Redemption? That's a laugh. Me sufferin' doesn't make anything right. Doesn't change anything,' Faith once again thought bitterly, this being a conversation she'd had with herself many times before.

Feeling a dull pain in her hand, Faith glanced down to find that she'd crushed the nail file. Forcing her cramping hand open to drop the mangled nail file, Faith inspected the damage. "Shit!" she exclaimed, "I'm a fucking head case." The abrasive paper had left some nasty scrapes on her palm. 

"You okay?" Janey asked looking up from her letter.

"Fine," Faith said wiping her damaged hand on her side and smearing blood on her prison uniform. Then Faith froze. "Do you hear something?"

Janey tentatively shook her head no, wondering what her scary cell mate was on about now.

"It sounds like--" Faith stepped closer to the cell door and cocked her head to one side, listening intently, "sounds like chanting." As the chanting got louder Faith said, "You have to be hearing that," turning back to Janey.

Janey was sitting on the edge of the bottom bunk, statue still. One hand was half raised, pushing a strand of mousy blond hair out of her face. Her eyes were fixed open, no blinking. "Janey!" Faith yelled trying to snap the woman out of it. "Janey, you in there?" Faith asked waving a hand in front of Janey's face and shaking her. There was no response.

Dashing back to the door, from which the chanting was increasing in volume, Faith pressed her face against the bars and looked as far down the corridor as possible. There she saw a guard with the same frozen look as her cell mate, and at the absolute limit of her vision she saw a line of robed figures slowly moving forward.

"Guys in black robes, chanting, paralyzed people, let me guess--demons," Faith said to herself as she nervously ran her hands through her hair and looked around her cell for a possible weapon. "Come on Faith, think, think. Where's a weapon. If I'm going to have that final fight earlier than I thought, I'm damn sure making it a good one."

Spotting a likely prospect, Faith tossed her thin mattress up against the wall. She grabbed the side of the bed frame, braced a foot against the vertical support, and pulled. Faith stumbled back against the wall as the piece of metal frame pulled free, but she had a grin on her face. Giving the metal bar a couple swings, Faith nodded to herself and said, "Yeah, this'll do some damage. I don't know what the guys coming to kill me are, but I'm sure as hell taking a few of them with me on my way out."

Faith grasped her make shift weapon in both hands and stationed herself to one side of the cell door, waiting for them to come. The dark Slayer didn't have long to wait, a few seconds later the cell door along with a large chunk of the wall was ripped away. 

There were several dozen demons in matching black cloaks lined up on the open side of the cell. The leader of the demons gave orders in an inhuman voice which somehow reminded Faith of the sound of crickets on a warm summer night. "You, keep chanting," he ordered the demons in the back, "You, take her, remember, we need her alive."

"You need me alive?" Faith asked, not really curious. "Good to know. That makes my job so much easier." Not wanting to wait another second for the attack to come, Faith lunged forward, swinging her metal pole at the leader's head. The leader ducked the swing and stepped back, out of the fray. Without so much as blinking, Faith swiftly changed the direction of her swing giving another demon a solid blow to the side.

Then the fight was joined in earnest. Even with a piece of the wall gone, the robed demons could only come at Faith three or four at a time, keeping Faith from being immediately overwhelmed. Faith put her pole to good use at first. Powerful swings from side to side would knock down multiple demons at a time, unfortunately it was just a delaying tactic. Being smacked in the side of the head was not a killing blow, they kept getting up and trying again. Then one of the demons managed to grab Faith's weapon and wrench it from her grasp.

The demon who disarmed her laughed evilly. Faith just shrugged and said, "I'm much more of an up close and personal kind of girl anyway." She ran out of her cell, right into the center of the demons and started kicking and punching like a wild thing. Realizing that she was in all probability going to die very soon, Faith still had to admit that this was the most fun she'd had in years.

The fight fell into something of a pattern. A group of demons would rush her, she'd beat them back with sheer ferocity, they'd fall back, circle around her, regroup, and attack again. With each attack she'd get a little weaker, a little more bruised, but she couldn't help grinning from ear to ear. This was what she'd been waiting for. This was what she'd been created to do.

Then the tide started to turn. After a particularly nasty blow to the head, one of the demons decided he'd had enough. He was pissed and he was going to end this. He pulled a long knife, something between a dirk and a short sword, out of his robes and started stalking the Slayer. 

"Hey, I thought you weren't 'spose to kill me," Faith protested.

"But, I can hurt you as much as I like," the demon explained in the same kind of voice as the leader. "You will be much easier to handle without hands."

"Bring it on, demon boy. Let's see what you got," Faith said, undaunted by the threat.

The demon rushed Faith, knife thrust out ahead of himself. Faith grabbed his scaly grey knife hand, elbowed him in the head, and twisted his wrist at an awkward angle. The demon's seven fingers lost purchase on the knife and Faith gladly took it from him. "Geez, you guys should really stick to the chanting, you can't fight for shit," Faith said, now ready for some real violence.

Another group of demons rushed Faith and once again she beat them back, only this time, with the addition of a knife to her arsenal, quite a few weren't getting back up again. Faith fought her way back and forth across the corridor, itching to simply run from the prison, the demons, and the entranced prison guards. She felt a physical need for long denied movement. She absolutely couldn't force herself to stay in one spot, even if that spot did give her the advantage of not having to look out for demons behind her.

Facing back toward her cell, she spotted the lead demon standing near the ragged cell entrance. Faith rushed toward the leader, hoping that if she took him out the rest would just leave. At the rate she was going she knew she'd run out of energy before she ran out of demons.

The leader fled Faith's approach by ducking into the cell. "There's no escape in there you bastard," Faith muttered to herself, following him in. Faith swung at him several times. Each time, he'd duck or side step till eventually he was pressed against the remains of her bunk. "Looks like you've run out of places to go," Faith observed. Then she went in for the kill. 

She could just see it playing out in her mind. She'd stab him through the heart. He'd collapse on to the floor. The other demons would flee in fear. And, she could sneak out in all the confusion and start actually helping people to try to make up for what she'd done.

But, that wasn't what happened. Instead, just as Faith was going for his heart, the demon pulled--the still frozen on the side of her bunk--Janey in front of him. Faith, unable to check her swing in time, plunged her knife into her cell mate's neck, severing Janey's jugular. There was blood everywhere. The knife fell from Faith's nerveless fingers. Wide-eyed and shaking she slowly backed away from the corpse. Pressing her hands to her mouth, Faith moaned a denial.

Taking advantage of the Slayer's anguish, one of the remaining demons struck Faith in the back of the head. The Slayer fell to the floor in an unconscious heap, tears streaking her cheeks and blood on her hands.

****

CHAPTER 14

December 27th, three days before the next scheduled apocalypse...

Buffy strolled into the Magic Box after a morning of searching warehouses near the docks. The Slayer'd called in sick for work that week. That way shifts at the Doublemeat Palace wouldn't take time away from trying to prevent evil before it happened.

"Hey, Anya," Buffy greeted the vengeance demon. "Ooh, nice hair, the style's really cute," Buffy complimented Anya after taking note of the new hair do since yesterday.

"What about the color? The auburn's not too much, is it? I said just a touch of red, you know, natural looking," Anya asked anxiously.

"No, it looks good. If I didn't know better I'd think you were a natural red head," Buffy reassured. "Where is everybody?" Buffy asked, looking around at the empty store.

"Duncan's giving Dawn another fencing lesson in the back room. Legolas and Methos are checking the last few places on Joe's list. And, Joe said he had some kind of business to take care of," Anya explained.

"Oh... Wait a second, you turned the back room into your office. Aren't the file cabinets and stuff kind of in the way?" Buffy asked, confused.

"Yeah, well, I really didn't need that much space... and all the equipment was already there... and you could use a better place than your basement..." Anya explained.

"You put it back the way it was?" Buffy asked excitedly.

"Uh... yeah," Anya said, not seeing how a gym could be in anyway excitement inducing.

"Thank you," Buffy said giving Anya a big smile and a quick hug.

"You're welcome. I mean, you're the Slayer and you need room to practice killing stuff," she replied with a shrug, and a pleased smile. Anya was still adjusting to the idea of Buffy and Dawn being her friends, rather than friends of Xander who just tolerated her.

"I'm going to go see how Dawn's doing. Be back in a sec," Buffy said happily as she headed toward the back room, a new spring in her step, amazed at how much a little thing like getting her danger room back mattered to her. 

She'd been trying to think positive about the situation at hand, but it wasn't really working. Going to face a major big bad without the rest of the Scooby Gang was really wearing on her nerves. And, Angel being the sacrifice was only making it worse. They'd been apart for a long time, but you never really stopped caring about your first love. At least, Buffy'd never stopped caring about hers. 

Granted, the Powers sent along some extra help, and they seemed nice enough and fairly competent, but they were still near strangers. Buffy trusted Joe, Duncan, Methos, and Legolas to help out with the fighting, and she even liked them--most of them anyway--but they weren't family. As the big day approached Buffy was finding herself more and more on edge at the thought of depending on the new guys. But, for some reason, the little detail of getting her work-out area back made Buffy feel better, like it was some sort of good omen.

Buffy slipped quietly into the back room, so as not to disrupt the lesson. Duncan, noticing Buffy's entrance, acknowledged her with a nod but didn't interrupt his correction of Dawn's grip on her new sword. Duncan continued the lesson, running Dawn through the routine step by step, while Buffy stood just inside the door, watching in silence. 

Buffy watched her sister and the tall, handsome, dark-haired Immortal for ten, fifteen minutes, her eyes slowly narrowing in suspicion. She crossed her arms in front of herself, and chewed on her lower lip, deep in thought. What Duncan was showing Dawn wasn't what Buffy was expecting for lessons. Dawn was learning formal fencing, not the basics of self defense that would come in handier fending off demons. Starting on the formal route would make sense for anyone intending to become a true master of the art; there would be fewer bad habits to be unlearned later. But, for anyone just interested in fending off the bad guys till the calvalry arrived... there were a lot of shortcuts that would have been more useful much faster.

The Slayer had to wonder what the motivation was behind this lesson plan. Was Duncan just a purist, who couldn't stand to teach anything sloppy, even if sloppy would get the job done? Was Dawn dedicated enough to the demon slaying gig that she wanted to master a weapon and the slow start would eventually pay off? And if that were the case, that opened up a whole other can of worms. Buffy'd given up on keeping Dawn completely away from fighting the good fight, but she still held out some hope of sending Dawn away to college or getting her little sister out of it some other way. If Dawn were that serious about learning to master a weapon, it didn't bode well for Buffy's hopes for the future. Or, then again, was there some other motivation all together? Buffy didn't know what was behind the fencing lessons, but she sincerely hoped Duncan was just a martial arts purist.

For a moment, Buffy was about to say something, instead she simply shook her head slightly and left the room as quietly as she entered. Dawn, too absorbed in what she was learning, never even noticed her sister was there.

The Slayer strolled back to the front of the shop, where Anya was totaling up some figures behind the counter. Buffy pushed herself up on to the counter, to sit beside the pile of receipts Anya was working with. "Anya, how much do you know about Immortals?" she asked in a voice that was all business.

"Lots, but Immortals probably know more. Why don't you ask one of them?" Anya asked.

"Because until I know what you know, I won't know if they should know that I know whatever it is you know," Buffy explained not very clearly.

Anya tried decoding Buffy's statement for a couple moments, then she gave up and asked, "What do you wanna know?"

"Two things: First, where do Immortals come from? Are they a separate species from humans where they're born that way and their parents are Immortals too, like half breed demons? Is it some kind of mystical thing, like being a Slayer, where the family is normal but they get chosen? Or what?"

"I don't know. No one knows where they come from, not even them. They're all foundlings, as in literally found on someone's doorstep as a baby," Anya answered the first question. After a pause for further ruminations on the matter she added, "I guess there could just be some mystical thing about doorsteps that makes Immortals just pop into existence, like there's that mystical thing about dryers that makes socks just sorta pop out of existence--or maybe it's pop in and out of another dimension..." 

"Okay..." Buffy said, filing the answer away to be processed later on. "Question number two is, how do they recognize each other? They look like normal people to me, don't set off my spidey sense or anything. How do they know who they should be trying to kill in that Game of theirs?"

"They just know," Anya said with a shrug. "They must have some kind of Immortal radar--like gay-dar, but less gay--'cause I've never heard of an Immortal beheading a mortal by mistake. Which is good. You know, if they couldn't tell themselves apart from normal people, that game of theirs could get really messy. There'd be decapitated corpses everywhere--the dry cleaning bills alone, and you just couldn't wear silk at all, blood and other substances just don't come out of your finer fabrics. That was the big problem with wars and massacres, always lots of fun to go to but you could never go home still looking cute. I ruined more outfits that way..."

"Hmmm..." Buffy murmured, considering the possibilities--not the fashion and dry cleaning ones, the ones applicable to Immortality. "One other thing," she said, another question just occurring to her, "how do demons know who's an Immortal and who isn't?"

"We don't, not really. We usually just find out an Immortal is one when our powers don't work on them. I've been summoned up to punish an Immortal, without knowing what he was. I tried to turn him into a rat then feed him to a snake, like his ex wanted, but nothing happened. He looked like he didn't even feel a tickle. Which is really frustrating. You put in all that hard work coaxing out the wish, and get bupkiss for your efforts," Anya complained.

"And that's the only way demons can tell?" Buffy asked, ignoring Anya's tangent as always.

"Sometimes, someone stumbles on one of their fights. It's a big light show, lots of explosions, energy all over the place, kind of pretty actually. Then we know they're Immortals--or the winner is anyway, the other one's just dead. The ones that fight a lot--look like they might win--some demons like to keep tabs on them, you know, planning ahead for the apocalypse--or sometimes just to gamble," Anya added.

"What about vampires and big snarly demons that are just violent?" Buffy asked. "They aren't real big on following rules and they don't use any special powers besides strength and speed. Mac wasn't immune to the vampires that attacked us the other night."

"Mostly, Immortals and demons avoid each other, just as some sub-conscious thing both the Powers and the Lower Circle does. Immortals in Sunnydale is just unheard of. And, when they do cross each other's paths, they're kind of encouraged to leave each other alone--notice I'm using 'encouraged' as a figure of speech, there's not actually anyone around telling demons to leave Immortals alone. A vampire once told me Immortals don't smell like anything and their blood tastes bad," Anya explained, for once not finding a rabbit trail to wander down.

"Oh," Buffy said, "I guess that makes sense. Why bother an Immortal, when there's so many tastier snack food options wandering around the place?" she asked rhetorically. "So does every monster know about these Immortal guys?"

"Not really. Most vampires have never even heard of Immortals. I guess if you're around long enough, travel in certain circles, you're bound to hear about them eventually. But, it's not like they're a big topic of conversation all the time. Speculating on who's going to win the prize and whose side they'll be on in the end is just something to chat about when evil's having a slow decade--kind of like talking about the weather."

"Hmm..." Buffy mumbled, adding those tidbits of information to her mental word picture. "What do you know about elves?" she asked, figuring that since she was on the subject of finding out about her new allies anyway...

"Not a lot," Anya admitted. "They're from a dimension that's been sealed off for thousands of years by a powerful demon. They're supposed to be incapable of being evil, no conscious evil anyway. Evil by mistake is still wide open. According to the legend, the big evil in their world was able to trick some of them into evil acts and that's part of where his big evil powers came from. They're all beautiful, immortal, and they make absolutely gorgeous jewelry," Anya explained ticking the few facts she knew off on her fingers.

"Gorgeous jewelry?" Buffy asked, girlie curiosity getting the best of her.

"Unbelievable jewelry," Anya enthused. "Caellef--her schtick was parents betrayed by their children, Hallie hates her with a fiery passion--she had a boyfriend who was old enough to have visited that world before it was sealed off. Anyway, he gave her a bracelet and necklace set he'd picked up as a souvenir, and it's absolutely to die for. It was gold and silver, but not in that cheesy geometrics two tone way you see on the Home Shopping Network. Delicate silver filigree like vines with little gold buds, looked just like a real plant except for the made of metal and all sparkly part. You almost expected it to grow, like the little gold buds would eventually turn into little gold flowers. Worth half a mil, easy."

"Sounds pretty, though a little too nature girl for me," Buffy said.

"Oh no, very understated and elegant, not earth mothery at all," Anya replied.

"I'll take your word for it," Buffy said with a shrug. Then changing the subject, "To finally get to my whole reason for coming by, where'd you put the weapons?"

"Weapons? Did you find something?" Anya asked as the bell above the shop door chimed and Methos entered the Magic Box.

"No sign of the cult guys, but I did find a demon nest," Buffy explained.

"Demons?" Methos asked, intrigued. "And you don't think they're involved in the current business?"

"Nah... I recognized the type. They're strictly kill things then eat them kind of monsters. They don't have the brains for that kind of thing. But, they're big and strong. I thought I'd better grab an axe before going after them," Buffy said, sounding unconcerned.

"You recognized the type? You saw these demons?" asked Methos. 

"They're... uh... whatsit, those guys with the weird pinchy hands and the fish faces? Will's spell went wacky and she got one of them all over her boots." Buffy asked Anya.

"Wavran demons," Anya supplied the name.

"Those guys. And, I didn't actually see them, I saw their nest. Which they should be back to by now, after their morning swim," said Buffy. "Where's that axe? I want to get this taken care of before they go out for their afternoon feeding."

Anya ducked down behind the counter and came back up with the axe. Buffy calmly took the weapon, not finding anything remarkable about the hiding place. Methos gave Anya a surprised look and Anya shrugged and replied, "Shoplifters."

"Buffy, if you didn't see these demons, how do you know what kind they are?" Methos asked.

"Distinctive claw marks on a couch one of them used as a scratching post," Buffy answered as she checked the edge of the blade for chips. Then noticing Methos and Anya's incredulous looks, she exclaimed, "What? So, I'm bad with names. I can still know stuff."

Just then, Dawn and Duncan walked in from the training room. "What's up with the axe?" Dawn asked.

"Found some demons, gonna go kill them," Buffy explained.

"Cool, can I come?" Dawn asked.

"Don't you have plans with Janice?" Buffy asked her sister.

Dawn squeaked in surprise, "I totally forgot, we're hitting the day after the day after Christmas sales. I've got to go shower and change, like now, or I'm going to be late."

"Do you need any help?" Duncan asked Buffy.

"Got it covered," Buffy assured him. "A couple--unravel--demons is no big."

"How do you know it's a couple?" Methos asked.

"Because, Wavran demons always come in pairs," said Anya.

"What she said," Buffy confirmed. "If you're so curious about the whole demon thing, why don't you come with?" she suggested to Methos.

"Oh, those," Dawn interrupted, remembering the demons Buffy and Anya were referring to. "Good luck with your weird fishy guys. I've got to go," she said waving goodbye to her sister and their friends as she left the Magic Box. 

"That might not be such a bad idea," Duncan said to Methos, picking the conversation back up after Dawn's departure. "It looks like we're all going to have to do some fighting before this is over. This could be a good chance to get your feet wet."

"Yeah, Mac and Legolas dived right in the other night with all those vampires. You haven't even seen demons up close and personal yet, other than Anya and she's been all human face. I'd hate it if you put it off till the night of the ceremony and then just froze on us. It happens to people all the time," Buffy said with a thin veneer of sympathy, actually just picking at Methos.

"How exactly do you kill these Wavran?" Methos asked more amused than irritated.

"Oh, the usual, just your standard slice and dice. You should do fine," Buffy said, not very reassuringly.

"Special powers?" he asked, all business. If he was actually going to do this, he wanted to be prepared.

"Strength, speed, accelerated healing, and they can breathe under water--but I don't think that'll come up," Buffy replied.

"Fine then, where's this nest?" Methos asked, clearly not enthused about the mission he was just about to go on.

"Other side of town. And, cheer up. This is going to be fun. Since, the vamps are all cleared out, I could use a good fight," Buffy said heading toward the front door. Reaching the door and noticing Methos's not having moved from where he was standing, she added, "Come on sword boy, we don't have all day. Besides, worst case scenario, you die and I miss lunch waiting for you to wake up."

Methos rolled his eyes, disgustedly mouthed the words 'sword boy' in Duncan's direction, then with a sigh of resignation he followed the Slayer out of the shop.

"Think they'll be alright?" Duncan asked Anya.

"If they don't kill each other, they'll be fine," Anya replied, unworried.

* * * * * * 

Faith was dreaming of ice. She was chained in a cave where water was dripping on her head from one of those pointy things that grow on cave ceilings--stalag-something or others, not like it really mattered what they were called. Each drop of water, as it hit her, turned to ice so that she was slowly, drop by drop, being frozen. Then there was a loud sound, like metal gates being shut, and Faith was startled out of her nightmare only to wake to a real nightmare only marginally better.

Faith found herself lying in chains on a cold concrete floor of some sort of warehouse. The roof leaked. Now Faith knew where the dream came from, but she didn't know much else. Pushing aside thoughts of her dead cellmate, Faith assessed her escape options. It didn't take but a second to realize that she didn't have any at the moment.

Faith figured she could take the five hooded guys guarding her cage, easy, but they were the least of her problems. She was securely bound with yards and yards of thick chains wrapped tightly around her body. She could barely wiggle out of the way of the drip, much less work her way free. If she could somehow free herself of the chains, there'd still be the cage to contend with. It was of heavy iron construction with bars running both horizontal and vertical and the bottom of the cage was anchored in the concrete floor itself. A couple kicks with full Slayer strength behind them was not going to get her out of this prison.

"Hey, you! Ugly guys in the robes! What the hell do you want with me?! Why'd you bring me here?" Faith shouted to her captors.

There was no reply.

Deciding to try a different tack, Faith called, "I haven't eaten in god only knows how long. I'm hungry." Still getting no response, she added, "You guys wanted me alive. You know you have to feed me if you want to keep me that way."

This time, one of her guards turned and answered, "We don't need you to live that long."

* * * * * *

In another warehouse, Methos and Buffy were fighting a couple big blue demons. They were roughly human shaped, but with fish scales, gills, and multiple eye lids. The demons' most outstanding feature were their hands. They had hands with eight clawed fingers, four on either side, that is--instead of an opposable thumb, they had four opposable fingers. To make it even stranger, one set of four was webbed and the other was separated.

Buffy was swinging her axe at demon one's head, but it dodged to the side at the last minute and Buffy only managed to slice off part of its shoulder.

Methos was working on demon two. He'd cut it a couple times with his Ivanhoe, but hadn't managed any major damage yet. Methos backed off a bit from the fight, trying to put some distance between himself and the monster while he contemplated a new plan of attack.

Demon two, taking Methos's actions as a retreat, lunged at the Immortal. Accustomed to smarter, more cautious, opponents--Methos was caught completely off guard and his sword was knocked out of his grasp. Methos managed to duck the next swipe, and the next. As he found himself running back and forth across the warehouse, dodging the demon's punches and trying to make his way back to his weapon, Methos promised himself he was going to strangle the Slayer for getting him into this mess.

About the same time, demon one got in a good swipe at Buffy and the Slayer found herself flat on her back with the handle of her axe wedged under the demon's chin. The two struggled for control of the weapon for a moment or two then Buffy kicked the demon off of her and into a wall a couple feet away. Rolling to a kneeling position, Buffy hurled her axe at demon two's back.

Methos's opponent fell to the floor and started oozing an unpleasant smelling purple substance. Free to retrieve his sword, Methos did just that and a split second later he was beheading demon one, which was coming up behind the still kneeling Slayer, having recovered from its collision with a wall.

Slightly out of breath, and not nearly as irked with Buffy after their victory as he was during his ignominious running from a freaky fish creature, Methos offered Buffy a hand up. "You do this kind of thing often?" he asked.

"Once a week, at least," Buffy said letting Methos help her to her feet, as she inspected her clothes for damage. She was just wearing sweats, so it was no big if there was damage, but it's a good thing to know. A girl doesn't want to wander all over town with an embarrassing hole in her clothes.

Doing a little mental math, Methos said, "But that'd mean there're hundreds of creatures like that--" here he motioned toward a demon corpse with the sword he was still holding, "--how can people not notice six foot tall blue things?"

"Most of the demons here are vampires, they don't stand out as much. When they're not all ridgy, they blend. As for the ones that're less blendy... never underestimate the power of denial and the ability to rationalize and suppress," Buffy said as she pulled her axe out of the demon corpse and looked around for something to wipe the blade with.

"But, this--this is a lot to suppress," Methos protested.

Buffy shrugged. "Maybe so. I get the feeling that most people can't help but realize that there's demon stuff going on in Sunnydale, but that doesn't mean they have to admit it out loud. If they stopped pretending everything was fine, then--gasp--they might have to actually do something about it."

"You think people can just willfully ignore something as real and tangible as this," Methos said incredulously, nudging one of the quite solid demon bodies with his foot to emphasize his point.

"No one noticed the fact that Mayor Wilkins was mayor for an entire century, before he turned into a giant snake and started eating people. Enormous tower built in the center of town by a bunch of crazy people slipped right by just about everyone. And, there are people who came to my funeral who didn't say a word when I showed up alive and well three months later. By comparison, a couple freaky looking corpses won't even register on the weird-o-meter, and most people won't even see them. The police department will haul them away and do whatever it is they usually do with demon remains before too long."

Methos put away his sword, Buffy shouldered her axe, and the two of them started back toward the Magic Box. "The police dispose of demon remains?" Methos asked, surprised.

"Yeah, I used to bury them myself, then I got interrupted one day and had to come back later to find the boys in blue already there. They were bagging, tagging, and hauling away as if they were fairly used to the job," Buffy replied. "After I got over my shock at finding the Sunnydale PD actually doing something useful, I decided to leave them to it. I mean, since they pretty much never actually try to solve crimes, they might as well tidy up after me--and all the intra-demon squabbles that come up. Gives them something to do to earn their pay checks."

"Not keen on the local police department I take it?" Methos observed dryly.

"Being falsely accused of murder kind of made me bitter," Buffy admitted.

"You were accused of murder?" Methos asked curiously.

"Long story."  
  
"It's a long walk," Methos pointed out.

Deciding there was no harm in Methos knowing, seeing as it had absolutely nothing to do with her sister, Buffy began the tale, "There was skeazy nutbag vamp named Drusilla and..."

* * * * * *

Duncan and Anya were comparing notes on rare artifact dealers and discussing the cross pollination between the antiquities and mystical items trades when Legolas strolled into the shop. 

"I was wondering where you were when Methos came in without you a few minutes ago," Duncan remarked.

"I took Dawn's suggestion and stopped in at Baskins & Robbins. A very hobbit-like invention, ice-cream. I'm surprised no one in Middle-earth ever thought of such a simple thing as freezing milk, cream, and flavorings, considering the results," Legolas explained.

"Ice-cream's a better invention than automobiles?" Duncan asked, grinning in bemusement.

"Infinitely better," Legolas agreed with a grin of his own, recognizing the seeming ridiculousness of his statement no matter the truth of it.

"But cars are almost inseparably linked to modern capitalism and consumerism. Even without the boon of increased mobilization, the way Henry Ford revolutionized industry alone makes automobiles the better invention--even if the idea was originally conceived by a demon who was tired of dealing with terrified horses and despite the fact that I personally like ice-cream better, especially if it's strawberry with chocolate syrup--cars are still the better invention," Anya lectured in all seriousness.

Duncan and Legolas paused for a minute, both at a complete loss for words after Anya's impassioned and somewhat odd speech. Then Duncan broke the silence by asking, "Since Methos didn't mention anything, I'm guessing you two didn't find anything on your search this morning?"

"No signs at all," Legolas confirmed. "It appears we must wait till the ceremony itself before we can attack."

"When Methos and Buffy get back, we'll draw up a plan of battle," Duncan replied.

"Get back from where?" Legolas asked.

"They went to kill some fish demons Buffy ran across," Anya answered.

"Buffy didn't think it'd be much of a fight," Duncan elaborated at Legolas's interested look. The elf was used to keeping busy, Duncan could tell all this wandering around town, looking for things that weren't there, was wearing on Legolas's nerves--the elf was getting bored. Duncan was a little bored himself, come to think of it. "Methos only went along to get his first up-close and personal look at demons."

"I've gotten everything I can do today done already," Anya suddenly said. "What are we going to do with the rest of the afternoon?"

"I don't know," Duncan said, brow wrinkled in thought.

"We've done all we can at present to prevent what is to come and weapons practice as well," Legolas added.

"Well, if neither of you have any suggestions, I've got an idea," Anya chirped brightly. "Miniature golf."

"Miniature golf?" Duncan asked incredulously.

"Everyone likes miniature golf," Anya declared. "Besides, it's not like you have any better suggestions."

Legolas shrugged his agreement to the suggestion not having any idea what miniature golf was but willing to try anything at least once--almost anything anyway.

"Miniature golf it is then," Duncan agreed.

Anya fetched her coat and purse. Then the peculiar threesome went out for an afternoon of miniature golf.


	4. Chapter 4

****

CHAPTER 15

December 28th, the evening before the next scheduled apocalypse...

After a total lack of success with Plan A--find the monsters ahead of time--they all gathered in Buffy and Dawn's living room to discuss Plan B. From left to right: Methos and Anya were sharing the armchair nearest the front door, Methos sitting in the chair and Anya perched on one arm. Dawn was curled in the corner of the couch, Legolas sat next to her, and Duncan sat on the other end. Joe took the other armchair, his cane propped against one side. Buffy nervously paced back and forth on the opposite side of the coffee table.

"Tomorrow's the big day and we haven't found them," Buffy stated the obvious.

"I didn't think we would," Methos admitted.

Buffy stopped he pacing and gave Methos a sharp questioning look, a look that was echoed by most of the rest of the group. Duncan had a glimmer of an idea of what was going on so he didn't join in on the group stare.

"These guys, they're smart. After drawing that symbol, there was no reason for them to be in Sunnydale before the big day. They had to know you would be looking for them. The smart thing was to stay away," Methos explained.

"Then why the wild goose chase?" Buffy asked pointedly, her tone implying that Methos could expect some grievous bodily injury should she not like the answer.

"I thought you needed something to do--to keep busy. Besides, we could have gotten lucky and found out I was wrong," Methos answered.

Buffy grimaced in distaste, snorted humorlessly, and said, "Thanks for thinking of me, but you know we do this kind of thing all the time. If we hadn't been busy with... busy-work, maybe we could have gotten some actual work done. God knows there's enough for me to do around here without adding a completely pointless tour of the seedy side of Sunnydale to the list."

"But, they have Angel and are trying to bring back one of the few monsters to ever get a piece of you," Dawn protested, "Don't even pretend like you're not majorly wigged."

"Am not," Buffy shot back.

"Are too," Dawn insisted.

"Girls, maybe we could focus on what happens tomorrow, come up with some plan of attack," Joe interrupted the cat fight in the making, trying to bring the conversation back to the matters at hand.

"What's to plan? We already know who, when, what, where. We go, we kill, we free Angel, simple," Buffy said with a shrug. 

"That's my sister, always great with the complex strategizing," Dawn observed rolling her eyes. Buffy, not wanting to get caught childishly bickering with her sister a second time in thirty seconds, let the comment pass.

"It's not that simple. We know the name of our enemy and what they're after, but do we know numbers? Strengths and weaknesses? How to kill them? If the Order was a bunch of push overs, I doubt we'd have been called here to help. It looks like we're going to have a tough battle on our hands, we need to prepare, we need to have a strategy," Duncan lectured.

Methos was nodding in agreement, wanting to say something but knowing now was not the time. Buffy would at least listen to what Duncan had to say, but she might reject Methos's advise just because of the source. There was less friction between the two after killing those fishy demons together, but with the revelation of Methos's wild goose chase scheme the friction was back in spades. 

Anya didn't hesitate putting her two cents in. "I like the sound of that, strategy and preparation, that'd make it sound like we're all professional, like we have some chance of winning. Now we need maps and stuff, maybe some little colored push pins."

Buffy gave Anya that slightly confused look she always gave the vengeance demon when Anya said something peculiar, shook her head, and finally agreed, "Okay, we'll come up with a plan. Where do we start?"

"An exact time for this ceremony would be helpful," Legolas pointed out, finally joining the conversation. Planning a battle was something he knew how to do, unlike a lot of the rest of this demon stuff.

"Midnight," Anya answered and at everyone's inquiring looks she elaborated, "It's always midnight, if it isn't sunrise or sunset. Dawning of a new day, end of the old, it's a whole thing. And, death stuff requires total darkness, so midnight's all that's left."

"My research says the same," Methos confirmed.

"Your research say anything about numbers?" Joe asked.

"Membership in the Order seems to vary from century to century. Some accounts put it in the hundreds, in others it's only a few dozen. One thing is certain, it takes twenty-four to complete the ritual so there'll be at least that many, and probably quite a few more," Methos explained.

"Twenty-four, that's a lot," Buffy admitted, starting to see the wisdom of making a plan.

"The good news is most of them will be Largoss demons. They're grey scaly demons with a row of short horns running around their heads. And, they don't have any special powers, not even super strength. You just need to remember that the heart's about where you'd expect the stomach to be. There might be a Kratha or two, but those are rare and you've already killed one. I don't know what else we might find, but Largoss demons seem to be pretty careful about who they let join their little club. They don't want anything stronger than themselves moving in and taking over so there shouldn't be any heavy hitters. Vampires are stronger than most of the demons known to have joined the Order," Methos continued detailing what he'd found out in his many hours of research.

"The odds are increasing in our favor," Legolas said confidently. "Those vampires we faced a few nights ago were strong, but we were a match for them. If these demons are lesser opponents..."

"Yeah, they don't sound like much of a big bad to me either," Buffy agreed with the elf. "What's the catch?"

"The catch is that all they need is a few seconds at the stroke of midnight to perform the ceremony. It's just a single line of verse and cutting off the sacrifice's head. Then up pops the Master, completely under the Order's control. They don't have to kill us, they just have to delay us for a few seconds. Then your friend'll be dead and the Master will kill us," Methos pointed out.

"Pretty big catch," Dawn said, eyes wide with worry. "I mean, Buffy can kill the Master if she has to. He's just another vampire. But, if you guys are just a little late, Angel'll be gone. I was never a big Angel fan, but he doesn't deserve to die." The part about Buffy not deserving to have to see him die went unspoken, although that was probably the source of the lion's share of Dawn's concern.

"Then we won't be late," Duncan said firmly, catching Buffy's eye to give her a look of reassurance. "Is that all?" he asked, turning toward Methos. "Did you uncover anything else in your research?"

"Well, there is one other thing," Methos said. "I think we might just have the advantage of surprise."

"Surely, they realize we will try to stop them," Legolas said, not knowing how their attack could possibly be a surprise.

"Yeah, we destroyed the symbol thingy, and their plan is written down in a bunch of books," Buffy pointed out. "They've gotta know we're on to them."

"I'm sure they do. I'm fairly certain they're aware we know what they're up to. But, I'm betting they think we don't know when it's going to happen. You see, all the texts agree that the ceremony must be performed on the second day of the Sumerian Feast of Fire, but none of them say what day that is on a modern calendar, nor are any clear astrological signs given. Modern scholarship would put the ceremony on January 2nd, because someone improperly figured in a couple holidays, throwing the whole calendar off a few days. Having actually lived with that particular calendar, like some of the demons in the Order have, I know the actual date. Like I said, the Order is smart. I bet, they're counting on us getting the date wrong and think they'll be able to get in, do the ceremony, and get out without us any the wiser." 

"So we need to get Angel away from an unspecified number of not very strong demons before midnight, and they don't know we're coming," Buffy summed up what they knew.

"I believe any further plans must rely upon the terrain. Perhaps we should return to the place this will be happening and see what our surroundings allow," Legolas suggested.

"Sounds like a good idea to me," Duncan agreed. "We need to know more about what we have to work with before we can plan our attack."

* * * * * * 

Everyone, except Anya, piled into Joyce Summers' SUV, Joe and Dawn went along too even though they weren't going to be fighting, and Duncan drove them to the school. Buffy still didn't have her license, but Willow and Tara had been using the car, driving Dawn to school and such. Anya decided to teleport over rather than try to squeeze a fourth person into the back seat.

On the way over, Duncan made a halfhearted and admittedly futile plea for Buffy to stay out of the fight. She was too emotionally involved and, unlike some people, she could get killed. Buffy flatly refused to take the out Duncan gave her. Then Buffy, with everyone else backing her up, informed Dawn that she would not be participating. Dawn protested at first, but after the fact that she'd be more in the way than not was pointed out and Joe offered to let her come with him to witness the action from a safe distance through a telescopic lens, she reluctantly agreed to stay out of it.

Anya met them at the front door. "What took you guys so long?" she asked. "I've been waiting forever and this place is creepy."

"Anya, you're a vengeance demon. You've caused murder and mayhem for hundreds of years, have probably started more fires than you can count, and you're nearly indestructible as long as you have your necklace. How can the charred remains of a high school be creepy?" Dawn asked.

"One, it was high school. Do you have any idea how much it sucked to be seventeen again and having to do book reports and take gym? Two, I always left while the fires were still burning. The warm glow of a fire, that cute little crackling sound, the smell of burning flesh, it's homey. A blackened ruin is just sad."

"Okay..." Buffy interrupted, "Now that we have that all cleared up, why don't we go inside and see if we can come up with a plan."

The group trooped into the library, carefully avoiding tripping on loose boards and other debris. Breaking an ankle at this stage of the proceedings wouldn't be a good idea. Even if it healed right up, it'd still be embarrassing.

Once inside the library, they all looked around the room in silence for a few moments. Some with knowing looks on their faces, others faking knowing looks. Finally, Duncan asked, "The twenty-four doing the ceremony, do they need to all be in here? Or will they be scattered around the building?"

"In here. They have to be in sight of the place where the Master died," Methos answered.

Noting the amount of floor space not covered in collapse shelving and support beams, "It's going to be a tight fit," observed Duncan.

"Unless they're really tiny demons," Buffy interjected. "Are they really tiny demons, 'cause that would be cool."

"Generally human sized," Methos answered. Buffy shrugged as if to say, 'Ah well, no harm in asking.'

"If there are going to be twenty-four in here and God only knows how many outside, we better be waiting for them when they come," Duncan suggested. "We don't want to be stuck outside battling a hundred of their friends while they're in here sacrificing your friend."

"But, where in here? With twenty-four of them coming in, there'll barely be standing room, much less places for us to hide. They'll probably get here as soon as it's dark out. They'll fight us as soon as they know we're here. Can we really hold them off from sunset to midnight? That's a lot of hours," Methos pointed out pragmatically.

"What about a spell?" Dawn asked. "Couldn't we do an invisibility spell or something?"

"I could make you invisible, I have books that say how to do it, but then you'd be blind too. I don't think being blind is a very good idea," Anya replied. "There are spells that make other people not notice you, but if you actually bumped into them, they'd notice. The spell isn't that strong."

Legolas, who'd been looking up at the ceiling this entire time, then said, "I have noticed that very few ever look for an attack from above."

"How would you do that?" Joe asked. "I doubt the roof would hold your weight, there's so much fire damage, and if it did how would you get down?"

"We could take a page out of Amanda's book," Methos suggested, now looking up at the sealing. "Ropes, pulleys, a couple grappling hooks should get us down fast enough."

"And, the ceiling isn't that badly damaged. It looks like most of the force of the explosion went out the skylight. If we spent tomorrow morning reinforcing it, I think it'll hold," Duncan added.

"The spell you mentioned," Legolas said to Anya, "it will conceal what sounds we make while on the roof and prevent discovery before time?"

"Long as no one touches us, the spell will work," Anya confirmed.

Having formulated what they all agreed to be a workable plan, everyone went home promising to meet bright and early the next day to start putting the plan into action.

* * * * * *

Later that night...

Methos knocked on the door of Legolas's hotel room. The elf opened the door and seeing who it was waved him inside.

"I've been thinking," Methos began.

"Thinking?" Legolas asked.

"I've been thinking that this Master, if he is brought back, will be more of a threat than the girls want to admit. I've been thinking the Powers That Be wouldn't have summoned us here if it weren't absolutely vital that we stop this. And, I've been thinking that we weren't summoned here because the Slayer can't handle the job, that we're here because the Slayer won't handle it," Methos explained.

Legolas paused for a minute, pondering what Methos just said, then he nodded in agreement. "I think you may be right. What do you propose we do?"

"I propose that should it look like we can't stop the ceremony in time, you put an arrow through the vampire's heart," Methos stated baldly.

"I don't like this choice but it seems to be the only one we can make," Legolas reluctantly agreed. "It is better that this man die to prevent the return of the Master than die to bring the Master back."

"My thoughts exactly," Methos agreed. "If it makes you feel any better, from what Buffy and Dawn have told me about him, Angel would be the first to tell us to kill him."

"It doesn't, but I will still do what is necessary," Legolas said pragmatically. "I only hope we are fast enough and the situation does not come to that."

Having said what he wanted to say, Methos started to excuse himself, saying it was a big day tomorrow and he needed a good night's sleep. Legolas stopped him and asked, "Why come to me? Why not Duncan?"

"Mac's too much of an idealist. He'll do what's necessary if it really comes down to it, but thinking about it beforehand would just upset him. You and me, we've been around too long not to be pragmatists. Besides, you're the archer. If we're unsuccessful, we probably won't be able to get anywhere near Angel. For you, that won't be a problem," Methos explained.

* * * * * *

The next day everyone was at the school, making the agreed upon preparations. Duncan and Legolas were reinforcing sections of flooring and pulling up sections directly over the library--so they could make a fast entrance when the time came. Anya and Methos were working on the spell to conceal their presence. And, Joe, Buffy, and Dawn were on fetching duty--fetching weapons, magic ingredients, the equipment Duncan and Methos asked for, and snacks. 

By early afternoon, they'd done everything they could do and all that was left was waiting. Each of them went off to do their own pre-game warm-up, agreeing to meet back at the school an hour before sunset.

Buffy went home and pulverized the punching bag which had yet to be moved out of her basement and into the Magic Box's back room. Picturing the bag as some vaguely grey and scaly thing who'd dared to threaten Angel's life with each punch, it didn't take long for the bag to split open. Looking down at the remains of the bag, Buffy was ready for some violence.

Duncan moved through a complex kata, slowly and with precision. He completed the last graceful movement, finding balance and focus. Duncan knew what he had to do, and this time he wouldn't fail.

Anya, back at her apartment, tried on yet another possible outfit and stood in front of the full length mirror in her bedroom, checking to see how it went with a sword. Giving the mirror her best intimidating look she said, "Die, evil demon scum." Tossing her hair over one shoulder and nodding to herself, Anya decided hip-hugger blue jeans and a lacy blue blouse would be appropriate demon slaying attire. And, they were both machine washable.

Legolas found a nice shady spot in the park where he re-fletched his hundred and first arrow. He didn't trust the plastic fletching that came on the arrows. Legolas found the familiar action of tending to his weaponry--an action carried out before more battles than he could count--oddly soothing. A squirrel lept down from a nearby tree and watched the elf from not two feet away. Seeing the squirrel sitting there, looking as if it was trying to puzzle out what he was doing, made Legolas smile. He didn't believe in omens, at least not of the small rodent variety, but suddenly Legolas was almost positive that they were going to win.

Methos spent the time in his room, bringing his diaries up to date. He'd gotten a bit behind, having been busy with other things, but now that there was some possibility of him never being able to do it later he felt like he had to do it now. Methos had been keeping his diaries for so long, he found the idea of leaving out the last chapter more than a little irksome. Finishing up the entry about the events earlier that day, Methos decided he was as ready as he'd ever be.

Joe got together his photographic equipment and wondered why he bothered. He definitely wasn't going to show the Council any of the pictures, they weren't ready to know about demons. Realizing that he was just trying to distract himself from what was going to happen that night, Joe reminded himself that his friends were strong and that they'd fought plenty of battles tougher than this one and come out alright.

Dawn pretended to watch a video and worried about all the things that could go wrong.

* * * * * *

Faith paced her cage desperately looking for a way out. She was hungry and thirsty, the demons apparently not wanting to take on any of the risks that came with giving her items. They had untied her, after tasering her to unconsciousness, and provided her with a bucket. At this point, Faith didn't much care about the boon of not having to piss herself, but she still found being free of the chains a godsend. As long as she was free to move around, the Slayer had hopes of freeing herself from this prison. As soon as they opened the door to get her for whatever they were getting her for, she'd kick some demon ass and escape.

"It's time," one demon said to another.

"Time for what?" Faith demanded. "Answer me you assholes! Time for what?!"

The second demon picked up a rifle, aimed at Faith, and fired. Faith dodged to one side and the tranc dart missed her by a hair. The demon fired again, this time, not having enough room to move in, Faith was hit. A few seconds later Faith dropped to the floor, once again unconscious.

* * * * * *

Duncan, Methos, Legolas, Buffy, and Anya were watching a glorious sunset from the newly reinforced roof of the library. A few minutes after the sun made its final descent an assortment of vehicles started pulling up to the school.

"Vans," Anya scoffed, "What self respecting demon drives a van? Don't they have any respect for tradition?"

"At least the vans are all rusty and creepy looking," Buffy pointed out. "If I was going to complain about anything it'd have to be the station wagon, or maybe that sporty red convertible."

"Where's that?" Anya asked.

"Over there, parked next to the tree," Buffy said pointing.

"It's just disgraceful," Anya said, shaking her head in disgust.

"Yeah, they should be walking up in a mob, torches blazing," Buffy said facetiously.

"Exactly," Anya agreed seriously.

Legolas who'd been ignoring this conversation in favor of keeping an eye on the library through the hole that used to be a skylight, said, "I count twenty-two down below, no sign of a sacrifice."

"Midnight's hours away, they're probably waiting till the last minute to bring him in," Methos answered.

"Since we've got some time, I think I'll take a look around, see what kind of numbers we'll be up against on the way out," Buffy said.

"After midnight passes, most of them will probably leave without a fight. They're in this for the power, if they can't do the ceremony there's no reason for them to fight us," Methos pointed out.

"Still, I'd like to know," Buffy insisted.

"Be careful," Duncan warned.

"Try not to bump into anyone," Anya added. "And don't leave any corpses lying around. That would be bad."

"I'll be careful," Buffy promised then scampered away across the roof tops to do a little reconnaissance.

* * * * * * 

Faith woke up alone in the back of a van. From the sound of the engine the van was either on its last legs or moving very fast or both. She was chained just as she was when she first woke up in that cage. Her feet were shackled together, her hands were handcuffed behind her back, and lengths of heavy chain were tightly wound around her body.

Faith was lying on her back, her hands painfully pressed underneath her. To relieve some of the pressure Faith tried to turn over. It took her a couple minutes to flop over onto her stomach, but in the struggle she learned something. This time, the chains weren't nearly as tight. Someone did a sloppy job chaining Faith up. She now had just enough room to grasp a chain in her hands and pull. Her hands were cuffed too close together to do very much damage, but she only had to bust a single link. That much she could do.

Faith went to work on the first piece of chain to come to hand. After what seemed an eternity of effort, which was made even longer by the lightheadedness caused by hunger and thirst, she finally had success. A link broke and suddenly the chain was loose, or at least some of the chain was loose.

Looking down at herself, Faith noted three padlocks. Apparently, there were three separate chains and she'd only broken one of them. Cursing in frustration, Faith grasped a still tight length of chain and started on chain number two.

Just as the second chain broke, Faith felt the van pull over and park. Hearing the demon guys in the front get out of the van and head toward the back doors, Faith quickly grasped the loose chain ends in her hands, to conceal her progress. "God damn it, I just can't get a fucking break," she hissed to herself as she heard the van doors being opened.

"Should we knock her out?" one demon asked the other.

"No, she needs to be awake for the ceremony," the other demon answered.

Gingerly reaching into the van, the two demons grabbed Faith and started to drag her out. Faith wriggled and struggled a bit just for show. Mostly, she was just trying to keep them from realizing that she was partially free and with just a little time alone she could be totally free. 

The two demons hauled Faith out of the van. Faith, finally getting a good look at her surroundings, couldn't suppress a, "Crap!" A return to Sunnydale High couldn't be good.

* * * * * *

The good guys were all once again gathered on top of the library. Buffy'd returned from her scouting mission nearly an hour ago to inform the rest that there were nearly 300 demons there by her count and that they'd better hope Methos was right about the running away.

At a quarter till midnight, the last two demons needed to make up the twenty-four came in hauling the chained sacrifice between them and dumping her into a circle drawn on the floor. It wasn't Angel.

"Faith!" Buffy gasped.

"I take it that isn't your ex," Methos stated the obvious.

"That's Faith. They're bringing back the Mayor, not the Master," Buffy said. Taking a deep breath and swallowing the bitter taste in her mouth Buffy added, "We can't let that happen. If it comes down to it. We have to kill her before they bring back the Mayor."

Methos arched an eyebrow, surprised at Buffy's reaction and clearly wondering why it was okay to kill Faith while she wouldn't consider the same option for Angel.

"The Master I can kill, he's just a vampire. The Mayor's different, he's a true demon. Since we don't happen to have half a ton of fertilizer and whatever else Giles and Xander made that bomb out of, I don't think I can kill the Mayor, at least not before he eats half of Sunnydale or worse," Buffy explained.

"If you don't kill him in the first few minutes you won't be able to at all. True demons, after their first feeding, are theoretically impossible to kill--mostly they just have to be banished to some other dimension. I guess that gets around the prophesy clause of the Order's mission statement," Anya pointed out. Then, as an afterthought she added, "Besides, Faith's a deranged serial killer. We don't have warm cuddly feelings for her."

Buffy gave Anya a look that clearly said she didn't appreciate Anya's help--on the Faith score at least. Then the group fell silent. Duncan kept a careful eye on his watch and on the mark of five minutes before midnight, he signaled the beginning of the attack.

On Duncan's mark, Legolas stood at the corner of the skylight from which he could see the largest section of the room and let fly an arrow. More arrows followed, killing the half dozen demons gathered on one side of the room. Duncan, Methos, and Buffy quickly lowered themselves to the floor, over the area Legolas had cleared of living enemies. Anya teleported in.

Duncan, Methos, Buffy, and Anya spread out, each trying to reach Faith from a different direction. Legolas, still on the roof, kept circling the skylight killing what demons he could from one position then moving on to the next.

On the floor, they weren't doing as well as the elf. The demons weren't hard to kill, but unlike vampires, their corpses didn't disappear after death. Each one they killed provided a new obstacle to trip over. And as they killed one, two or three poured in from outside. Hearing signs of attack, reinforcements were coming in.

After the first minute of chaos, Buffy decided to get organized. "Anya, Methos, watch the doors. Don't let anyone get in. Mac, kill as many as you can, if there aren't twenty-four they can't do it. I'll try to get Faith," the Slayer ordered.

Meanwhile on the other side of the room, Faith was momentarily shocked to see Buffy and a bunch of people she didn't know coming to her rescue. Then snapping out of it, she decided to take advantage of the distraction to go back to work on her bonds. Grabbing the last chain, Faith made short work of it, desperation adding to her strength. Struggling to a sitting position and then to her feet, Faith wiggled free of the chains. Then she crouched down and putting her cuffed hands behind her knees, rolling to her back she pulled her legs through her arms to bring her hands in front of her. Never taking her eyes off the fight the entire time, Faith went to work on the handcuffs.

Across the room, Methos and Anya were successfully keeping demons out of the room. There was a hairy moment when one of the demons backhanded Anya into a wall, making her lose her axe. That wasn't the problem though, the blow just pissed Anya off enough to bring out Anyanka. Once she was in full vengeance demon mode, Anyanka started to savagely tear into demon after demon using no finesse, just raw strength and rage. The problem was that completely shocked by Anya's transformation, Methos was caught off guard and took a knife to the shoulder before he could recover his composure. Knowing it would heal, and fighting through the pain, Methos recovered enough to keep up his end of the task.

Between the demons originally in the room that survived the first attack and the ones that got in before Methos and Anya started watching the door, there were still roughly thirty of the Order still in the room and only three minutes to kill at least seven of them.

Legolas crouched on the edge of the skylight, arrow aimed at Faith's heart just in case they weren't in time. He also kept an eye out for demons wondering into his line of sight. Unfortunately, most of them had caught on at this point and were staying out of his way.

Buffy, axe in hand, was plowing straight through the crowd of demons, killing when she could but just knocking them aside when it was faster. She knew if she could get Faith out of that circle, up and fighting, there was no way the Order would be able to perform the sacrifice in time.

Duncan was following close behind, watching the Slayer's back and permanently dispatching as many demons as he could manage. The status of the struggle kept repeating itself over and over in his mind. Two minutes left, three demons down, four more to go. He swung the claymore he'd brought in place of his usual katana--knowing the straightforward fighting of his youth would be more practical in this situation than style and precision. The head of the demon went flying across the room. 'Four down, three to go, less than two minutes left,' he chanted mentally.

Buffy sliced another demon open, almost cutting him in two, the last one in the path directly between her and Faith was down. Just as Buffy reached her, Faith pulled her left hand free of its cuff, leaving behind a lot of skin. "Legs," Buffy ordered. Knowing exactly what the other Slayer meant, Faith spread her ankles as far as the shackles would allow to give Buffy room to cut the chain. Buffy swung the axe as if she were trying to put it through the floor and cut the leg shackles apart.

"Thanks B," Faith said, jumping to her feet and rubbing her raw wrist. Faith glanced behind Buffy, and her eyes widened in fear she lunged at the blond Slayer, knocking Buffy to the ground just outside the circle with Faith landing on top of her.

As she hit the ground, Buffy finally spotted a demon that had gotten past Duncan and was creeping up behind her. The demon was in mid thrust when Faith knocked her over, if Faith hadn't done what she did, Buffy would have been slayer-kebob. As it was, the demon couldn't check the trajectory of his spear. Instead of catching Buffy in the stomach, it went through Faith's side.

Pushing the injured Slayer aside, Buffy grabbed her axe and beheaded the demon, who was momentarily glued in place by the realization that he'd just screwed up the ceremony himself by fatally injuring the sacrifice before time. With the death of the demon, the total in the room was brought down to twenty-three with a whole fifteen seconds to go. 

Knowing there was no way to succeed, the demons let out a synchronized screech that had Buffy and the rest wincing in pain. Then the demons started to retreat. Seeing the fight was over, Methos stepped aside and let them. The rest followed Methos's lead and let the demons pass.

"B?" Faith said weakly.

"Faith, you're not dead," Buffy said, surprised as she knelt on the floor next to her sister Slayer.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Faith asked with a slight chuckle.

"Faith," Buffy started, to say she wasn't sure what.

"Never mind, it doesn't matter," Faith interrupted. "God knows you have enough reason to wish me dead, and I think you're about to get your wish. I just... I just want you to know I'm sorry... sorry for everything."

"I don't wish you dead," Buffy told Faith, then more firmly she said, "You're not going to die." Looking up from her former enemy Buffy saw Legolas. Sometime during the Slayers' conversation, Legolas had made his way down from the roof and to the injured girl's side. "Legolas, can you do something... anything?" Buffy asked hopefully.

"I don't know," Legolas replied. "It is a grievous injury, but I can try." Placing his hands on the wound, around the shaft of the spear, he said, "It needs to be pulled free, on my mark."

A soft glow started around the wound, as Legolas began. He would have to heal the wound a little before they pulled the shaft free, otherwise Faith would bleed to death in an instant. Guessing it was the right time to remove the spear, he ordered Buffy, "Now."

Buffy grasped the spear in both hands and pulled. It slid out of Faith's side making a nasty tearing sound. Legolas, completely focused on the healing, didn't even notice when the spearhead sliced open his palms as it passed by. Faith let out moan of agony and passed out from the pain.

****

CHAPTER 16

Faith reluctantly crawled back to consciousness, prodded on by a painful tugging sensation at her side. Warily, she opened her eyes, afraid of what new mess she might find herself in. After a second, Faith recognized her surroundings from a dim recollection of Joyce Summers' bed room and sighed in relief. "I'm still alive," she observed, somewhat surprised.

"And, it looks like you're going to stay that way," Buffy replied, not looking up from the half healed wound and the bandage she was changing.

"Now what? You wait for me to heal up, then ship me back to prison? Or are they on their way to pick me up now?" Faith asked antagonistically, because that was the only way she could keep from embarrassing herself by begging not to be sent back. 

Buffy's brows drew together and her mouth screwed up, then she opened her mouth as if to snap back at her fellow Slayer. Then, without having said anything, she paused, relaxed a bit, and shrugged. "If you want, I could call the cops right now," Buffy offered in a disinterested tone, "But, if I were you, I'd want to avoid going back to prison, maybe try doing good for awhile--see how that worked out."

"You mean that?" Faith asked half sitting up in surprise then falling back on a pile of pillows still too weak to sit up. "You're not just shittin' me, are you? You're really not sending me back to prison?" she pressed thinking what Buffy seemed to be offering was just too good to be true. 

"No, I'm perfectly serious. From what I hear you've sincerely changed. Heck, you almost got yourself killed saving my life. If you're not going to go around maiming and killing innocent people anymore, you could do a lot more good out of prison than in," Buffy explained, still not overly enthused about Faith's release but willing to be reasonable about it.

"You're just gonna let me go?" Faith asked for confirmation, still not believing Buffy could have forgiven her enough to let her go.

"Not exactly," Buffy replied.

"What do you mean 'not exactly'?" Faith said suspiciously, feeling vindicated. She knew there had to be a catch.

Taping the new bandage in place, Buffy hedged, "How do you feel about Washington State?"

"Never been there," Faith replied, "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well..." Buffy began, not exactly sure how to explain, "I don't think you're ready to be completely on your own--"

"You mean you don't trust me," Faith interrupted.

"And," Buffy continued a little louder, deciding to ignore the interruption, "I don't think your coming back to Sunnydale is a good idea--"

"You mean you still hate me and don't want me around you and your friends," Faith interrupted again.

Knowing that any reply she might make to Faith's interjections would only result in a full scale argument, Buffy simply gave Faith her best evil eye and continued, "I didn't know where you should go, since the Council was definitely out. Luckily enough, Mac saw you sacrifice yourself for me, thought it was noble, and offered to take you in. He lives in Seacouver which is in Washington State."

"Who's Mac?" Faith asked, "And, why would he offer a perfect stranger a place to stay?"

"Tall, dark haired guy with a big sword, you might have noticed him in the fight?" Buffy prompted. "And he offered because he's a really nice guy and just does that sort of thing."

"Yeah," Faith nodded. "I remember him. But, you know, B, no one is that nice. He has to have some ulterior motives," Faith protested Buffy's naiveté. "Of course, if I'm remembering the right guy, I could really go for some ulterior motives. It's been awhile, me not really going for the girl on girl action," Faith qualified her protest.

"If he has any ulterior motives, they're not what you're thinking," Buffy said dryly. "I haven't known him very long, but if anything I'd guess he's making up for his very own detour through the darkside."

"You're sending me off with some near stranger?!" Faith complained, but not seriously. Her moving in with a total hottie sounded like a good plan to her. "He could be a major freak on the look out for Slayer nookie."

"You wish," Buffy replied. "And, if he turns out to be some other kind of freak, I'm sure you can handle it. You are a Slayer after all."

* * * * * *

Downstairs in the dining room, Methos had his lap top out and was working on something illegal.

"What'cha doin'" Dawn asked, coming up behind the Immortal, sandwich in hand.

"Creating identifying records for one 'Faith MacLeod,'" Methos replied absently, still concentrating on what he was doing.

"I thought Mac was going to do that?" Dawn asked, "You said it wasn't your business and you didn't want to get involved."

"Mac was going to make a mess of it," Methos answered, eyes still glued to the screen. "If he's going to be harboring escaped convicts, the least I can do is make sure he doesn't get caught. Otherwise, I'd have to come up with a clever plan to get him out of prison. Faking a few records for his new 'cousin' is a lot easier."

Just then, Buffy walked in. "The patient is finally awake and eager to meet her new roomie," Buffy announced. "Where's Mac?"

"He's fixing the leaky outside faucet," Dawn answered. "He really doesn't get the whole not doing stuff thing does he?" she asked rhetorically.

Buffy went through the kitchen and out onto the back porch. She was about to go down the steps and circle around to the side of the house where the drippy faucet was, when she heard voices. Catching her sister's name, Buffy couldn't resist the impulse to stop and eavesdrop.

"What are you planning to do about Dawn?" Joe asked.

"I'll keep in touch, and when the time comes I'll be there to explain anything she hasn't figured out on her own," Duncan said, clearly unconcerned at present.

"But what happens in the mean time?" protested Joe.

"Life goes on like normal," Duncan suggested. "Immortals avoid the Hellmouth. Now that the crisis is over, I can see why. Ever since we stopped the ceremony, Methos and I have been feeling sudden impulses to leave. I think Dawn'll be fine without me keeping an eye on her."

"Don't you have any curiosity?" Joe asked, frustrated with his friend's apparent lack of concern for the oddities of Dawn's case.

"Not enough to go poking my nose in business that doesn't concern me," Duncan replied evenly.

"Suit yourself," Joe said, giving Duncan up as a lost cause. "I'm going to go see how Methos is progressing with his little project. It'll be easier to get the details on your new family member from him than to look them up myself later."

Hearing Joe come her way, Buffy started down the step toward Duncan. As they passed each other, Joe gave Buffy an assessing glance, trying to figure out if she'd overheard anything. Buffy pasted a clueless smile on her face and pretended she hadn't heard a thing.

Finishing up his repair of the faucet, Duncan was screwing the garden hose back into place. Seeing Buffy come around the corner of the house, he rose to greet her, brushing dried grass off his knees.

"Faith's awake," Buffy said.

"Did you tell her about my offer?" Duncan asked.

"Yes," Buffy answered. "Are you sure you don't want to take it back? It's not too late. You haven't met her yet, so she can't take it personal... ly."

"If I weren't sure I wouldn't have offered. She nearly died for you. That's not the action of an irredeemably evil person," Duncan said for what felt like the millionth time. Everyone except Anya had tried to dissuade him from his offer--Anya didn't care where Faith went as long as it was away from her.

"Just because she's not irredeemable doesn't mean you're the one who has to do the deeming. A serial killer, even if she's former, is a lot to take on, and you don't even know her," Buffy pointed out. 

"All the more reason for her to move to Seacouver with me," Duncan said, still convinced of the rightness of his decision. "Faith has enough to deal with already without a lot of personal history getting in the way."

"If you're not changing your mind about it, I guess you should come get introduced," Buffy said turning back toward the back porch with Duncan following close behind. After ascending the top step to the porch, Buffy suddenly stopped and spun to face Duncan. "One more thing before we go inside--what's so special about Dawn?" Buffy demanded.

"Special about Dawn?" Duncan replied innocently, "You're her sister, you'd know more about that than I would."

"I am her sister, which is why I have to ask what you know," Buffy pressed. "And, don't pretend it's nothing. The look you gave her when you first came to the Magic Box, the fencing lessons, Adam's irritating questions, all add up to something and the conversation you just had with Joe pretty much clinches it. So, now you're going to tell me what it is, because I really need to know," Buffy said not quite threateningly, but with lots of conviction.

Duncan silently looked at Buffy for a minute, gauging how likely the Slayer was to not let the matter go until she had all the answers. Then he gave it up as a foregone conclusion, figured that, as the Slayer, Buffy didn't have room to throw any stones, and decided to tell her the truth. "Dawn's going to be Immortal one day," Duncan stated simply.

"Oh," Buffy said, a little nonplused. "I thought it might be something like that, but it's still a shock to have it confirmed. My sister, an Immortal, it boggles the mind."

"You can't tell her," Duncan warned. "She should have as normal a life as possible before..." he trailed off not wanting to mention the d-word.

"No worries there, I wouldn't dream of telling her," Buffy reassured. "We haven't seen normal in years, but I'm still not going to say anything. If she knew she couldn't die permanently she'd be beyond reckless. Then I'd have to listen to her bitching and moaning about being an eternal sixteen-year-old till my dying day," she elaborated, quickly getting used to the idea. Compared to finding out your sister was originally green energy and your memories were created by monks, Immortality is small potatoes. "Actually, it makes a lot of sense when you think about it," Buffy mused to herself.

"It makes sense?" Duncan asked, surprised at Buffy's reaction and more than a little confused. "Perhaps you could explain something that's been bothering Methos and Joe," Duncan said tentatively. Since Buffy didn't make any protests, Duncan continued, "I don't know if anyone has mentioned it, but all Immortals are foundlings. None of us have ever had a biological family." 

"And?" Buffy asked, seeing where Duncan was going with this, but wanting to know how much he knew before she said anything.

"Dawn's not adopted, is she?" Duncan asked. "Joe looked, but couldn't find any record of an adoption."

"There wasn't technically an adoption, but..." Buffy fished around for the right way to put it. "Let me put it this way: Dawn wasn't adopted, but I didn't have a sister three years ago."

"What about the school and medical records going back before three years ago?" Duncan asked.

"My, Joe certainly was thorough," Buffy observed pointedly. Then getting back to the matter at hand, she shrugged and said, "They're fakes."

"Fakes?" Duncan prompted.

"Dawn needed a place to hide and someone to protect her, so I got a sister," Buffy explained. "The one who was after her is dead now, but others might come looking. As far as the world's concerned Dawn's my sister and has always been my sister. It has to stay that way," Buffy warned, dropping into a dead serious tone.

"I will never do anything to endanger Dawn, you have my word," Duncan gave his solemn oath.

"Good," Buffy accepted Duncan's promise.

"Can I ask one other thing?" Duncan said, returning the conversation to a more normal tone.

"You can ask."

"What about the forgeries? Methos couldn't even spot them and he's an expert."

"He may be an expert at normal forgeries, but magical forgeries are a lot harder to spot," Buffy answered.

"You can forge documents with magic?" Duncan asked, surprised. That just didn't seem like an appropriate application for magic to him.

"From what I've been told, you can do just about anything with magic if you can figure out how to go about it and are willing to pay the price," Buffy replied. "Oh, and before I forget to warn you, don't bring up her life before she became my sister with Dawn. It's not something she likes to think about. Last time it came up, a trip to the hospital and several stitches were involved."

"As far as she's concerned, I only know she's your sister and think she was born that way," Duncan agreed, seeing no other choice in the matter. Duncan thought Dawn would probably benefit from talking about whatever was so horrific about her past, but there was no way he could bring it up without revealing how he found out Dawn was anything other than what she appeared and that would entail revealing her Immortality.

"Alright then, now that we've got that settled, let's go see Faith. She's probably wondering what's keeping us," Buffy said, relieved to finally have her suspicions confirmed and that she was able to fob Duncan off with some half-truths, avoiding any mention of The Key. On one hand, she wasn't happy that Dawn would one day have to participate in the Game Duncan told her about, but on the other hand at least Dawn wasn't going to die at a young age as was so likely to happen living on a Hellmouth.

Then the two finally went upstairs to introduce Duncan to Faith.

* * * * * *

Buffy quickly performed the introductions then left the room so they could get to know each other. Buffy figured that with her there Faith would be on edge, making the conversation with Duncan unnecessarily difficult.

Faith had struggled into a sitting position while Buffy was downstairs. From her spot, propped against the headboard, she looked Duncan over like she was sizing up a side of beef. Amused by her blatant inspection, Duncan quirked one eyebrow, grinned, and decided to play along with his own minute inspection.

Deciding to put the bad girl attitude on the back burner for awhile, Faith patted the bed beside her and said, "Why don't you stop towering over me and tell me what possessed you to invite me to come stay with you."

Duncan took a seat about even with Faith's knees, facing her, and said, "Buffy told me what happened before, and I saw what you did for her. I just thought you might need a place to go."

"You're not worried I'm going to kill you in your sleep?" Faith asked, only half joking and defenses firmly in place.

"Not really, should I be?" Duncan answered.

"I'm not plannin' on it, but I never planned on doing a lot of things, but I did 'em anyway. I mean, killing a bunch of people and going to prison wasn't exactly on my to do list," Faith said with a humorless chuckle.

"Long as you're not planning to kill me, I won't worry about it. I'll worry about you knifing me in my sleep when it actually happens," Duncan said.

"But, then you'd be dead," Faith pointed out, obviously beginning to think Duncan wasn't playing with a full deck.

"Not for long," Duncan corrected, then seeing Faith's blank expression, he added, "I guess Buffy skipped that part."

"B must've skipped something if that last bit was supposed to make sense," Faith agreed.

"Faith, I was born four-hundred years ago and I cannot die," figuring she'd find out anyway if she moved in with him, Duncan didn't hesitate to give her the short version.

"Huh? What gives? You're not a vamp. How can you be four-hundred and only look thirty-something?" Faith asked.

"I'm an Immortal, and before you ask, I don't know where we come from. We're just like normal humans except we don't age, at least not after the first time we're killed, and although we can be killed we just get up again a few minutes later, as good as new," Duncan explained.

"You serious?" Faith asked, disbelieving. "I could stab you in the heart and you wouldn't be hurt?"

"It'd hurt, dying is usually painful. But, I'd survive," Duncan answered.

Faith looked at Duncan for a minute, then accused, "You're just pulling my leg. People don't just get up after they've died. Demons sometimes, but you're not a demon."

"I was hoping to avoid the demonstration this time," Duncan said, pulling a pocket knife out of his back pocket. Unfolding the knife, he said, "Watch closely, I don't want to have to do this more than once."

Duncan took a deep breath and ran the blade over his left palm hard and fast, leaving a deep cut behind. Faith was surprised by his actions but still deeply skeptical. Then, before her very eyes, little flashes of what looked like lightening moved over the wound sealing the gash in their wake. Mere seconds later the wound was completely healed as if it were never there, the only remaining evidence being a few smears of Duncan's blood. 

"Wow, that was really cool," Faith observed, as Duncan grabbed a couple tissues from the box beside the bed and wiped away the blood.

"Now you believe me?" Duncan asked.

"Yeah," Faith said, "But, that still doesn't explain why you'd want to help me. What's in it for you?"

"I want to help you because everyone deserves a second chance. And, because people have helped me in the past with no expectation of return; doing the same for you is the least I can do. Besides, I hear you're pretty good in a fight," Duncan explained.

"Okay, I got all the standard do-gooder mumbo-jumbo, but you lost me on that last part," Faith replied.

"I own a dojo and I'm always looking for a good sparring partner. There's not a lot of people who can match four-hundred years of practice. I thought maybe you could teach a few classes, just to keep busy. And, I could learn a thing or two in the process." 

"You paying?" Faith asked.

"We can work something out," Duncan agreed.

"Sounds good to me," Faith agreed to the plan.

"I suppose this means you're coming to Seacouver?" Duncan asked.

"Not like I have anywhere else to go," Faith shrugged, "If I don't like it, I can always leave."

* * * * * * 

Several days later, after Faith had time to heal up, everyone was at the airport saying their farewells.

"Too much shit's happened for us to be friends, hasn't it?" Faith stated more than asked.

"Yeah, but I don't want you dead anymore, I don't even hate you," Buffy said brightly.

"I guess that's progress," Faith admitted with grin, "You'll call me if you need help with something?"

"I will, even before calling Angel, at least we never dated," Buffy replied.

"You take care of yourself B," Faith ordered.

"You too," said Buffy, then she moved on to the next person in line.

Buffy went up on tip toe to give Duncan a sisterly kiss goodbye. "If something happens you should know about, I'll keep you posted," she promised. Then looking pointedly at Methos and Joe she said, "Or, you could just ask them. They'll probably know about it before I do."

"Sorry about that," Joe, Duncan having filled him in on part of the truth, apologized for his investigation, "I never could leave a mystery alone."

"I'm not sorry. No harm no foul, I always say," Methos said, grinning to let Buffy know he was just teasing. Then glancing over to see Dawn still well out of earshot--hugging Legolas goodbye and instructing Faith to not be a jerk--he added, "Don't worry about your sister, we know how to keep a secret. No one who shouldn't is going to know anything about her."

Finishing up her farewells to Methos and Joe, Buffy interrupted Anya's presentation of a scheme to transport elven made goods from Middle-earth for a vast profit and shooed the vengeance demon away from the elf. "So, you'll be going back to Middle-earth in a few months and we're probably never going to see you again." Buffy said with a disappointed sigh.

"That is the plan. We probably won't ever meet again," Legolas agreed. "I shall miss you and Dawn, even Anya. Her odd directness has grown on me."

"Yeah, we like you too. But, if you've gotta go..." Buffy trailed off. Then chewing on one side of her bottom lip and giving Legolas a speculative look she said, "You've gotta go and I'll never see you again, so what the heck." Then she went up on her toes, pulled the tall elf down to her and kissed him full on the lips. 

Legolas hesitated for a split second. Then, embracing the 'what the heck' mentality, his arms went around Buffy and he deepened the kiss. The nibbling and tasting went on for quite sometime, until their audience started throat clearing and commentary. Needing to breathe, Buffy eventually broke the kiss, panting slightly.

"You're very good at that," Legolas observed grinning from ear to ear.

"You too," Buffy agreed with a matching grin.

Then giving each other a quick, friendly, hug they said their good-byes.

* * * * * *

Meanwhile, a few steps away there was an uncomfortable moment between the semi-lovebirds. "So, Anya..." Methos trailed off, not really sure what to say.

"It was the veins wasn't it?" Anya asked shrewdly. 

"Veins?" Methos asked.

"You know, my demon visage. Xander couldn't deal with me going all veiny either. Men are all so superficial. You look slightly inhuman for two seconds and next thing you know they don't want to be your orgasm friend anymore," Anya complained.

"Uh... I'm sorry?" Methos tried.

"Yeah, sure, whatever. At least you apologized," Anya shrugged and walked away.

* * * * * *

A couple minutes before their boarding call, a familiar balance demon strolled up to the group. "Good job with the demons, that coulda gotten seriously messy," he congratulated the group.

"And, now you're here to warn us about something even worse that's about to happen?" Buffy guessed.

"Nah, nothin's comin' for awhile yet. There's somethin' brewin' but with you and Faith still alive and kickin' we got a good shot," Whistler replied. "I'm here to keep you from making your own mess. The separation between Immortals and demons is back on." Giving Duncan a significant look, he continued, "You stay out of Faith's business. Give her a job, place to stay, be her friend, but leave the demons to her. There'll be hell to pay, in the literal sense, if you go sticking your nose where it don't belong."

"I'll stay out of the vampire slaying," Duncan grudgingly agreed.

"And you?" Whistler asked Methos.

"As if I even considered the possibility," Methos sniffed.

"Good, I'll be goin' then, have a nice flight," Whistler said and walked away, swiftly disappearing around a corner.

Faith, Duncan, Joe, Methos, and Legolas boarded their flight to Seattle a few seconds later and Dawn, Buffy, and Anya went home. 

* * * * * *

Legolas spent a few more months in Seacouver, then when the right time came, Methos and him flew back to Switzerland and the stones. Methos said goodbye to the elf at the bottom of the hill and said he'd probably visit Middle-earth again in the not so distant future.

Legolas entered the circle of stones, sliced his hand, said the words, and woke up several moments later under a different and very familiar set of stars. "How was your visit?" a gruff voice asked him.

Sitting up and seeing his friend Gimli sitting nearby, he answered, "It was... interesting. Remind me to tell you about it sometime," he teased the dwarf.

"Sometime? What about now? It's still a long walk to the city," Gimli pointed out barely able to restrain his curiosity.

"Very well," Legolas relented. "Adam's world is very different from this one, even the trees aren't the same, but that was just the beginning of it..."

****

The End

A/N: That's it for a bit. Everyone is back home where they belong, except Faith who's getting a second chance at being a Slayer, this time in Seacouver. But, now that everyone's been introduced, paths are sure to cross again. And, there's still the Dawn issue to settle. No direct sequels any time soon--I kind of need a break from the Buffy/Highlander milieu--but there are plans for another sequel sometime in the nebulous future.

If you spot any confusing bits or unanswered questions, please email me.


	5. New Scenes and AN

****

New Scenes:

Inserted in Chapter 1, just after Buffy & Dawn's first encounter with the Kratha demon. Before the scene in Seacouver at Duncan's house.

Middle-earth, next to the stone circle, mere moments after Methos and Legolas's disappearance...

"The solution to the puzzle appears to have worked," Arwen observed faintly looking around the clearing which now held two fewer people.

"Worked too well, if you ask me," Gimli complained. "Why did those lights take Legolas too? Adam was the only one looking to go home."

"I'd guess it is because he is also an immortal, though of a different variety," Aragorn speculated.

Gimli grunted noncommittally at this observation and said, "What I want to know is how to get him back."

"Is there anything we can do?" Arwen asked.

Aragorn thought over what he'd been told of the workings of the 'Gates' then answered, "I believe all we can do is wait."

"Wait?!" Gimli protested, worried about his friend.

"Legolas is likely with Adam in his world as Adam was with us in ours, he will be fine for the time being. In all likelihood, he must simply wait for the time to be right to make his return. Adam did say that these stones only worked once a year, the ones on the other side probably work in much the same way," Aragorn explained his theory.

"And if they don't?" Gimli asked.

"I don't know what we'll do," Aragorn admitted. "But, if the stones work as Adam believes they do, Legolas should return six months from now. We should wait for that time to pass with no sign of him before we begin to worry in earnest."

Gimli looked over the clearing in silence for a moment then asked, "I wonder what strange tales we will hear from him come summer?"

"I wonder that as well," Arwen agreed.

* * *

Inserted in Chapter 11, the day after they dusted the vampires at the school, just before the conversation in the kitchen between Joe, Legolas, and Buffy.

Per Legolas's instructions, Buffy had retrieved the target normally kept in the basement for stake tossing practice and set it up at the far end of the yard. Then she attentively listened to Legolas's in-depth description of all things regarding archery, from bow manufacture to the best stance for a quick aim--for the first hour at least. Then Buffy's eyes started to glaze over. Legolas--totally immersed in his most favorite topic and completely oblivious to Buffy's reaction--nattered on about the finer points of archery for another half hour.

Buffy, unable to take anymore, finally interjected, "You know, that's all really fascinating, great info, good to know and all, but maybe we could skip to the hands on portion of the lesson. I've always been the jump right in and get started type when it comes to learning stuff."

"I suppose we could do that," Legolas said reluctantly. As much as he liked introducing all and sundry to his favorite sport/pass-time/way-of-life, the thought of putting his 'baby'--his Lothlorien bow--in the hands of a rank amateur was slightly worrisome. "But, you must understand. Archery is an art. It takes years simply to learn the proper method of drawing a longbow. Don't be disappointed if your efforts don't yield swift success," Legolas cautioned as he slowly handed over his beloved weapon.

"Cool," Buffy said, getting her first up-close look at the bow. "Arrow?" she asked holding out one hand for one.

Legolas took one out of his sorely depleted quiver and handed it to Buffy. Noting that he had a grand total of five arrows left, Legolas made a mental note to spend the next few days replenishing his stock.

Keeping in mind everything Legolas had said during his interminable lecture, Buffy fit the arrow to the bowstring, pulled back, and let the arrow fly--all in one smooth motion. A split second later the arrow thwacked home in the target, four inches to the left of center. Buffy wrinkled her nose in consternation, and conceded, "You're right, getting the hang of this is going to take some time."

"Are you sure you've never used a longbow before?" Legolas quizzed Buffy.

"Uh... no. Why?" Buffy asked puzzled, they'd been over that already.

"For a first effort, that was amazing," Legolas said in wonder, mystical duties and a little hand to hand combat predisposed the elf to respect Buffy as a warrior. But, being a prodigy with a bow and arrow, that really meant something. "I've never seen anyone learn so fast, not even the hunters of Mirkwood--the best archers in Middle-earth."

"But I missed," Buffy protested, not getting what the big deal was.

"You hit the target," Legolas pointed out.

"And that's unusual for a first time out?" Buffy asked.

"Extremely," Legolas confirmed.

"Slayer powers," Buffy shrugged the matter aside, "go figure."

* * *

Inserted in Chapter 14, just after Methos and Buffy killed the fishy demons in that factory.

Duncan and Anya were comparing notes on rare artefact dealers and discussing the cross polination between the antiquities and mystical items trades when Legolas strolled into the shop. 

"I was wondering where you were when Methos came in without you a few minutes ago," Duncan remarked.

"I took Dawn's suggestion and stopped in at Baskins & Robbins. A very hobbit-like invention, icecream. I'm surprised no one in Middle-earth ever thought of such a simple thing as freezing milk, cream, and flavorings, considering the results," Legolas explained.

"Icecream's a better invention than automobiles?" Duncan asked, grinning in bemusement.

"Infinitely better," Legolas agreed with a grin of his own, recognizing the seeming ridiculousness of his statement no matter the truth of it.

"But cars are almost inseparably linked to modern capitalism and consumerism. Even without the boon of increased mobilization, the way Henry Ford revolutionized industry alone makes automobiles the better invention--even if the idea was originally conceived by a demon who was tired of dealing with terrified horses and despite the fact that I personally like icecream better, especially if it's strawberry with chocolate syrup--cars are still the better invention," Anya lectured in all seriousness.

Duncan and Legolas paused for a minute, both at a complete loss for words after Anya's impassioned and somewhat odd speech. Then Duncan broke the silence by asking, "Since Methos didn't mention anything, I'm guessing you two didn't find anything on your search this morning?"

"No signs at all," Legolas confirmed. "It appears we must wait till the ceremony itself before we can attack."

"When Methos and Buffy get back, we'll draw up a plan of battle," Duncan replied.

"Get back from where?" Legolas asked.

"They went to kill some fish demons Buffy ran across," Anya answered.

"Buffy didn't think it'd be much of a fight," Duncan elaborated at Legolas's interested look. The elf was used to keeping busy, Duncan could tell all this wandering around town, looking for things that weren't there, was wearing on Legolas's nerves--the elf was getting bored. Duncan was a little bored himself, come to think of it. "Methos only went along to get his first up-close and personal look at demons."

"I've gotten everything I can do today done already," Anya suddenly said. "What are we going to do with the rest of the afternoon?"

"I don't know," Duncan said, brow wrinkled in thought.

"We've done all we can at present to prevent what is to come and weapons practice as well," Legolas added.

"Well, if neither of you have any suggestions, I've got an idea," Anya chirped brightly. "Miniature golf."

"Miniature golf?" Duncan asked incredulously.

"Everyone likes miniature golf," Anya declared. "Besides, it's not like you have any better suggestions."

Legolas shrugged his agreement to the suggestion not having any idea what miniature golf was but willing to try anything at least once--almost anything anyway.

"Miniature golf it is then," Duncan agreed.

Anya fetched her coat and purse. Then the peculiar threesome went out for an afternoon of miniature golf.

****

Misc. Notes:

On the travel stuff: 

I put Seacouver in Washington State, on the coast, right across from Vancouver Island because there's a National Park there and there were all those first season Highlander episodes where they went out in the woods. That would make it about a two hour drive to Seattle. L.A. is about a 24 hour drive from Seattle, so you'd definitely want to fly if you're going from Washington State to Southern California and aren't up for a roadtrip. Yes, there is something wrong with me. I go to an atlas site and look up distances for a work of fiction. Real life, I make stuff up.

Sorry, no Buffy/Legolas romance. I have this thing, I won't write non-canon based romance. Buffy/Angel or Buffy/Spike I might one day write. A little mutual admiration, light flirtation, maybe a fling, between a non-canon couple I might do, depending on how it goes. I feel comfortable making characters from two different sources friends, but true love is a little too much for me.

I can guarantee no Dawn romance of any kind (at least not any time soon). I think present day Dawn/any fully adult character fic is kind of creepy. She's just a kid. If I were going to hook her up with anyone, he'd have to be her own age and I don't have any candidates.

Thank you for reading and for all the kind reviews. I do take reader suggestions into consideration. If there's something you want to see, let me know. Heck, Methos wasn't even suppose to be in this one and now he's a co-star. I'm not making any promises, mind you. I do have a definite plan for this story and some things just will not fit. But, if I can think of a good way to work it in, I'll try.

My personal rule for extra Hellmouth powers is that you have to either be there to have them or have lived there long enough for the Hellmouth to change you. Since Legolas is going home before too long, he's going to lose his extra healing powers when he leaves. 

As you may have noticed, not everyone got X-mas presents. That is because I suck at thinking up gifts and I got halfway through the list and gave up. No one was actually snubbed. Pretend everyone got everyone else something really nice that they truly appreciated. If you have any ideas to fill in the gift giving gaps, email me or put it in a review and I'll use them for the revised edition.

And, as I'm sure people also noted, the whole cast isn't Christian, but that really isn't a prerequisite for celebrating the secular parts of the Holidays. In my entire life, I've never been to church outside of funerals and weddings. But, I still have a big gaudy tree in my living room and you have to give people stuff.

I know there's a lot more Buffy/Highlander stuff in this one than LOTR, and I do try to even things out, but six charaters versus one and they're in Sunnydale so LOTR just can't have as much page time, unless I made it Legolas centric. The fact that I've always seen Legolas as the hang in the background and not draw too much attention to himself with inane babble type doesn't help either.

In case I was too subtle about it--just with Whistler dropping hints that is--the major thing about this apocalyse wasn't so much the Mayor. I figure Buffy and/or Faith would have managed to stop that. The problem would be Faith (and probably Buffy with her) would have died. Then the next, actually super, Super-Big-Bad would be left with just some newbie Slayer as an opponent, and thus world end-age.

I was originally going to present my scheme of how come Dawnie's an Immortal, but then I thought of how little the Immortals know about their own origins and how very little is known about the Key. I decided leaving it mysterious was probably the best way. However, I will say this: Buffy canon stands. Dawn is the Key and was made from Buffy's blood. It's something about her keyness that caused her Immortality.

Next story in the series is going to feature Faith in Seacouver but I'm waiting till after the Buffy Season 7 finale to start, to see what Joss does. And, I'm not a fast writer. Don't expect anything new from me for several months yet.


End file.
